The Afterlife
by Adamantwrites
Summary: It's two years after the end of the Civil War and Adam is on his journey home. He stops at a ranch to ask for work and becomes involved with the Fells, a family with whom he stays for a respite.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and setting are the property of their respective owners. All original characters and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Chapter One**

A tall, large man holding a shotgun stepped out on the wooden porch to confront the visitor who rode in on a big Appaloosa. A young boy peeked around the door frame to get a look at who was riding in but only for a few moments; a delicate hand pulled the boy back inside and then a woman went to the large front window and watched through the lace sheers.

"Who are you, mister, and what do you want?" the tall man asked as he held the shotgun on the stranger.

"I was hoping to find some work," the man said. He wore a shabby dark blue jacket that had once been part of a Union uniform and it clashed with the gray Stetson and the black wool trousers although the boots looked to be military issue though they hadn't been polished in quite a while. His black hair was to his shoulders and he hadn't shaved in a while, his beard rough and graying.

"Is that so?" the man on the porch asked.

"Yes, it is. I'm passing through and I need some work. I saw that your farm…"

"It's a ranch," the man corrected.

"Sorry. I didn't see any cattle."

"That's 'cause they been stolen."

"Sorry to hear that. Well, your ranch then, it needs work. Some of the fences are down, the barn needs painting and the shingles on the house look like they need some replacing. I've turned my hand to ranch work before and if you'll just give me my meals and a place to sleep for a while, I'll start the repairs around here. If you're not satisfied, just tell me to shove off. I've been in the saddle for a while now, not lighting anywhere in particular but now I'm heading home and I need the work, the money to keep going." The man sat straight, not moving his hands quickly—he didn't want to be blown off his saddle just because his nose itched.

"Where's home?" the man asked appraising the man on the horse; the rider looked gaunt, as if he hadn't had a full belly in quite a while and his eyes were guarded and were constantly scanning, looking for a yet unknown danger.

"Nevada."

"That's quite a ways. How do I know you weren't hired by Jeb Truck? How do I know that you're not here to destroy my place 'stead of fixin' it up? How do I know that you're not here to kill me?"

"I guess you really don't except that I say I'm not any of those things. Look, I'm bone-weary and I don't know this Jeb Truck or anyone else around here—I'm just passing through. Since you don't need a hand around here, I'll be off." He leisurely turned the Appaloosa's head and started to ride away when he heard a woman's voice—"Wait!" He pulled up the horse and looked back.

The woman who had been peeking through the sheers had called out and come out onto the porch. The boy stood in the doorway again.

"Elias, we need the help but if you don't want it, at least let him stay for dinner. We've more than enough stew—I'll just add a little more water." The woman had copper-colored hair that was contained in a snood but the corkscrew curls did their best to escape the confines of the crocheted mesh. Her pale skin was practically colorless and light freckles were the only thing marring her milky complexion. Even in the falling darkness, the rider could see that her eyes were bright blue. She was slender like a girl, hardly looking as if she had ever born a child, that is, if the boy was her child. The stranger on the horse wasn't sure; the woman seemed too young for the man with the shotgun. More like his daughter but one could never tell.

"You expect me to eat watered stew so that you can feed this saddle tramp?" The man spoke roughly to the woman but his eyes never left the rider.

"Elias, be charitable. Invite the man to stay for dinner."

"We may be inviting our own downfall to sit at our table."

"And we may also be entertaining angels unawares. Now ask." She stood and smiled gently at the man on the horse and he smiled slightly in response. It felt odd to smile; he hadn't really done so in a long time.

"What's your name, mister?" Elias asked.

"Cartwright—and I assure you, ma'am," Adam said, looking at the woman and tipping his hat, "I'm not a fiend come from hell but I'm no angel either."

"It doesn't matter, Mr. Cartwright. As long as you're hungry," she said, "you're welcome at our table, isn't he, Elias?"

"As long as he leaves his gun with me, he is."

'Thank you—both of you. And I am hungry ma'am. Both sides of my stomach have been stuck to each other for quite a while now." Adam again smiled at her and was rewarded with a shy grin from the woman as if this was the first attention from a man she had received in a long time.

Adam dismounted. "And here." Adam pulled his sidearm from its holster. "Here's my revolver." Adam had been wearing his revolver for so long, even sleeping with it on that the sudden lightness felt odd, as if he was off-balance. Then he pulled a rifle from its scabbard and handed it to Elias as well.

Elias took it and examined it and then scrutinized the scabbard; the leather had an insignia tooled into it. "Military issue." He looked back up at Adam, his shotgun under his arm. "You either fought or you stripped a dead soldier."

"I fought," Adam said, waiting to see if the man would say anything else.

"Elias, the war's been over for two years now. You can go wash up, Mr. Cartwright. There's a pump out back beside the kitchen door."

"Thank you, ma'am." Adam smiled in gratitude. The boy ran off the porch and took the horse's reins.

"This is one tall horse," the boy said. "I don't know that I can reach up high enough to take off his bridle to feed 'im."

"I tell you what," Adam said, "you just water him and let him graze in that patch over there and I'll take care of him later myself." The boy grinned and led the horse away and Adam went to the back of the house and found the pump. He pulled off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt so that he could tuck in his collar and a length of the front. He scrubbed his hands together and for the first time in a long time, he noticed the grime around and under his nails. With the nail of one index finger, her cleaned out the dirt from the nails of the opposite hand the best he could. Then he splashed the water on his face and neck. The water was cold and made him shiver. He could smell the stew through the open kitchen window. His stomach ached in anticipation of food; hunting had been poor and this land didn't yield much food on its own and he hadn't eaten in over a day.

"Here." At the proximity of the woman's voice, Adam jumped slightly and then stood up, the water running down his neck and wetting his shirt. The red-haired woman stood on the back steps holding a towel.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said reaching for it. She offered a smile and he grinned back. Then she disappeared back inside the house and Adam dried himself off; he wondered what their story was and why their cattle had been stolen and just who Jeb Truck was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Please say grace, Elias," the woman quietly said. Adam bowed his head along with the other three.

"For what we are about to receive, may we truly be grateful. Amen."

Adam mumbled "amen" along with them. The word seemed alien in a manner since it had been so long since he had prayed; it seemed a lifetime ago and looking at the young woman in the lamplight, he suddenly felt old but she still made his loins ache; that was another thing he hadn't done in a long time, had a woman. She glanced over at him and he realized that he had been staring.

"Please, Mr. Cartwright, start eating. It may not be the best meal you've ever eaten but it's wholesome food if I say so myself, not that I flatter myself on my cooking. The carrots and the onions…"

"Wife," Elias said, "must you talk so much? Mr. Cartwright didn't travel all this way just to hear you blather about vegetables and stew."

"It's all right—I rather enjoy it," Adam said. The woman looked down and put her hands in her lap, obviously embarrassed. "I've been riding alone for so long that I enjoy hearing a woman talk. I've grown tired of my own voice."

"Rachel will talk on about foolish things if I allow it. Next thing you know she'll be palaverin' on about woman problems—God knows she's got enough of those."

Rachel pushed back her chair and stood up. "Excuse me," she said, her head down. Adam rose from his chair and watched her walk away down a narrow hall. He heard a door close and then sat back down.

"Eat, Mr. Cartwright," Elias said. "Rachel's a temperamental sort. I've learned to just ignore her spells of pique."

Adam said nothing, just began to eat as the boy was; he had never paused lifting his spoon to his mouth as if Elias carping at Rachel was a normal thing. There was also sliced brown bread on the table and Adam broke off pieces and dipped them in the steamy broth. As he ate, he noticed the boy watching him; he would glance up every once in a while and the boy would drop his eyes.

"Son," Elias said, "go tell Rachel to get us more stew."

The boy climbed down from his chair and padded down the hall. Adam heard the boy knock on a door and then he heard muffled voices. The boy came back to the table and scooted his chair back in to finish wiping his bowl with bread. Adam watched the woman go into the kitchen and come back with a heavy, cast-iron pot, a towel wrapped around the handle. She carried it awkwardly with both hands, a ladle tucked in her waistband.

Adam rose from his seat. "Here, Ma'am, let me take that from you. Looks heavy. Won't you join us again?"

"It's all right," she said. "I'm used to work. Besides, you're a guest."

"And you're the lady of the house. Please. Let me help." And she shyly allowed Adam to take the heavy pot from her which he placed in the middle of the table. Then he pulled out her chair and Rachel sat down after pulling the ladle from her waist and placing it beside the pot.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright," she said. "Please help yourself to more stew."

"Thank you," Adam said. "Would you like some to warm up your serving?"

Rachel said no, that she didn't and so Adam helped himself to more stew. He offered the ladle to Elias who took the proffered ladle and scooped himself some stew.

"So," Elias said, his mouth full of food, "you said that your home is Nevada?"

Adam nodded as he continued to eat. "Mighty fine stew, ma'am." She smiled at him.

"I tell you what," Elias said. "I do need a hand around here. When I get my herd back from that thievin' Jeb Truck, I'll need to keep them on my side of the property line. He claims that any cattle that wander on his property are his and I suspect his men of bein' the ones to have dragged down my lines and herded my cattle on to his property. I tried to get a few head back a few months ago and that goddamn Truck shot me in the high back—said I was trespassing and the sheriff backed 'im up. I tried to explain about gettin' my cattle back but that goddamn sheriff said it didn't matter—I was on Truck's land. It's only now that I can get back to work—that's why everything is in such a state of disrepair. If you're willin' to take a chance on bein' shot, I'll keep you on. There's a small room off the kitchen where you can sleep if you don't mind sharing it with potatoes and stores of carrots and such. You can eat your meals with us."

Adam pushed his empty bowl away from him. "I accept and thank you."

The two men stood and Elias reached across the table and he and Adam shook hands. "My name's Elias Fell and that's my wife Rachel and my boy, Sonny."

Both Rachel and Sonny looked at Adam and Rachel dropped her eyes and then rose and proceeded to clear the table.

"Sonny, go wash up and then go to bed," Rachel said.

"Why do I hav'ta, Rachel? It's still early—ain't even all the way dark yet?"

"Sonny," Elias said sharply, "do as you're told. Don't make her tell you twice or I'll make sure you hear it real good that time."

"It's all right, Elias," Rachel said. "He'll go. It's just like a boy though to want to stay up later, especially when we have company."

Elias said nothing and soon he and Adam were alone at the table. A few minutes later, Rachel came back with two cups and saucers and a coffee pot and poured both men coffee.

"Sorry there's no dessert, Mr. Cartwright. I didn't have time. I have some rhubarb and tomorrow I'll make a pie. You like rhubarb?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do. But that was a delicious meal and I ate so much, I wouldn't have had room for dessert. Now I have a brother who could gulp down that whole pot of stew, eat that whole stack of bread and still have room for dessert!" Adam grinned and Rachel lightly laughed. Adam considered that she had beautiful eyes—such a vivid blue and she looked so pure and delicate. He couldn't see her and Elias tussling in bed; she seemed more like a fairy child, someone from an elfin grot in one of the stories he had read as a child. She didn't belong here in such crude surroundings. Rachel seemed more spirit than flesh.

Rachel smiled wanly. "You must miss your family."

Elias' impatience with her was obvious to Adam. "Woman, mind your own business and get back in the kitchen. Let us men talk."

Adam pressed his lips together. He wanted to intervene, to tell Elias to shut his goddamn mouth and leave Rachel be but it wasn't his business. Instead, after she had left, he asked, "Have you two been married long?"

"No, only a little over a year now. After my wife died, well, I needed someone to take care of my son and the house. I only got the one boy left. All my other children died—two when they were just little ones. My first boy lived to see sixteen years and then he was killed by one of Truck's hands in a fight in town—witnesses swore my boy drew first but I don't believe it. Anyway, Rachel answered my ad in the paper for help keeping house and watching the boy and then, well, having her around I figured I better marry her before I gave in to lust. But she isn't one to warm a man's bed—she makes it seem a chore, just something to be endured. But she's a good cook and is raising Sonny just fine and he's fond of her and she, him. I'm not complaining—I just wish she was warmer. And it would be nice if she was prettier and a bit more buxom, if you know what I mean. I like a set of hips to hold onto."

Silence fell between the men as they sipped their coffee, so Adam just clasped his cup in his hands and waited to hear the parameters of his duties on the ranch; he knew that he was lucky to have found work. Kansas had been having a dry winter and as he had ridden over the cold, barren plain, he had seen bones and carcasses of cattle. He had stopped at a few farms and had been fortunate to receive a slice of meat and bread every so often but most people had little enough for themselves and didn't have much to spare. And Adam knew what he must look like. People in Missouri and Kansas had seen enough Civil War veterans travel through their area—Adam had just taken longer than most to get there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

When Lee surrendered at Appomattox, Adam and his regiment were with Sherman's troops resting and recuperating after having just burned and razed a miles-wide path from Atlanta, Georgia to Columbia, South Carolina. The men were jubilant at the news but Adam just felt empty. He felt it had all been such a waste—all of it. He had killed countless, unknown men in grey uniforms, some only boys, who were trying to kill him for no other reason except that his uniform was blue. In battle, he had seen his own men blown apart by cannon fire, dropped by rifle fire, heard both horses and men scream in pain and men moan as they died—the horrible death rattle in their throats before they remained forever silent. And there had been Pvt. Mears whose face had been practically blown away by an explosion. Adam had dropped down beside him and Mears grabbed blindly for his captain, Captain Cartwright, trying to speak, the blood bubbling up from what had been his nose until it choked him.

So many people had died and Adam felt old and weary of living but he had been a fortunate one. Other than chiggers, lice and mosquito bites, all he had physically suffered was a bullet crease across his brow and a bullet in the shoulder. He still had a few pieces of shrapnel left behind that the field surgeon hadn't been able to remove no matter how much he had probed. The memory of the pain as the surgeon dug into his wound, pushing muscle and tissue aside to search for remnants of the bullet had faded somewhat but he would always remember forcing himself to lie still. It had taken all the self-will he had to do so and he kept hoping he would pass out from the pain—but he hadn't and endured the agony; the morphine was saved for those in worse condition than he. So although his body was relatively unharmed by the war raging around him, his soul had been damaged-it was ill.

The Army had set up a pay station in the camp in Charlotte; many men hadn't received pay for over a year including Adam but it didn't matter; there had been nothing to buy and now nothing left to buy. The line for the paymaster was long, many men having to sit on the damp ground due to their weariness and Adam looked at them as they waited and decided he had had his fill of waiting while life ticked by. He mounted the large Appaloosa that had been issued to him and rode out. He would forfeit his pay and just head west—head home.

Adam, traveling across the country, would work for a few weeks or a few months at different jobs in different cities or towns. There was reconstruction not just in the southern states but in the eastern ones as well. So many city buildings and streets had been pocked by cannon-fire or been burned by opposing armies and since Adam had a knowledge of architecture and engineering, he found it easy to be hired. Many times Adam was asked to stay on as his knowledge was beyond value to those attempting to rebuild, tempted by more money and a higher position, but he always declined and moved on.

Ii was in Spartanburg, South Carolina, Adam's first leg of his journey home, that he sent a telegram to his father and brothers informing them that he was alive—he did not say "and well," and was going to work his way back home. Adam knew that his father was yearning to have him home, his father loved him and had regretfully let him go when he left, but Adam didn't feel he could go back to life on a ranch—not just yet. Adam's heart was too empty and he often saw himself reflected in the haunted, soulless eyes of the other soldiers who were also searching for home—some of them having no home to which to return. Also lost were the civilians who didn't know how to start again or didn't have the will; it took too much effort just to keep breathing.

But then there were those who pounced at the chance to create wealth for themselves by taking advantage of those who were still suffering. They reminded Adam of the carrion creatures who slunk out of the surrounding forests or swooped down from the sky to make a meal of the slaughtered horses and men on battlefields.

In Ohio, Adam was looking for work when he heard a woman's cries from behind a building. He didn't want to investigate, just wanted to keep on going but somehow he couldn't, so he dismounted and walked down the alleyway. A man was on top of a young woman, her skirts pushed up to her waist and struggling to be free. Two other men were watching and apparently waiting their turns. Adam considered the situation; these were men dressed in cheap suits, men who preyed on the weak. There were three of them and only one of him. The girl meant nothing to him and for all he knew, she was a whore who had tried to cheat them—or she was merely a young woman who had refused their advances. There were always layers to everything and nothing was ever as it seemed; Adam knew that. He also knew that anymore, life was cheap.

"Leave her alone," Adam said in a flat voice. The man on top of the girl stopped his thrusting and looked to see who had spoken. The other two men stepped aside and the woman stared at him.

"You're gonna have to wait your turn, mister," the man on top of the woman said and turned back to his efforts.

"I said, leave her alone. Now." Adam noticed that none of the men had an obvious weapon. He still wore his Union issued revolver and his rifle was in its scabbard. Adam had removed the bars and epaulets from his jacket and purchased himself a gray Stetson to replace his faded Union cap. He wore an eclectic mixture and knew that he would demand no respect from these men due to the fact that he had been a captain in the army.

The man over the woman stood up having lost the desire that had kept him at the ready and buttoned his pants. The girl moved away, scuttling like one of the crabs Adam had seen at the seaside in Maryland. She wasn't very pretty but she was plump and round. She stood and gathered herself together, smoothing her skirts, but there was no way out of the alley except by the men and Adam so she flattened herself as best she could against a wall.

"Now you three just leave. Just walk away and keep on going."

The three men looked at each other and smiled knowingly and one turned his back to Adam and then quickly swung around, a small caliber gun in his hand intending to fire but was a few seconds too slow. Adam pulled his revolver and fired. The man, with a surprised look on his face, stood for a few seconds, wavered and fell with a thud. And Adam felt no emotion.

The other two men put up their hands to show they had no weapons and slowly backed out of the alley. Adam pivoted to watch them and as soon as they were back on the sidewalk, Adam saw them run across the street. A few passersby had looked down the alley at the noise but no one stopped or intervened. So Adam holstered his revolver, tipped his hat at the woman who stared in fear, and left. He remounted and went on to look for work. He never thought of the incident again.

As Adam worked his way across the country, he was often reminded of his first time traveling cross country with his father but then he was young and impressionable but now, nothing was new and amazing—nothing.

The first time Adam had earned enough money to stay in a hotel and have a shave and a proper bath, he was amazed to see his reflection; he didn't recognize himself in this man who stared back. He looked gaunt and haggard, much older than his 38 years. And he wondered how his family was and what they would say when he finally rode into the yard of the Ponderosa. Adam was afraid his father would cry—and that he himself wouldn't be moved at all. Adam was afraid of the yawning emptiness inside himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The two men sat by the fire and Adam had accepted Elias' offer of a glass of hard cider.

"This has as much of a kick as whiskey," Adam said. "I'm not that familiar with hard cider—I always thought it would taste like a strong apple juice but this is an eye opener—a bit like a dry wine only sweeter."

"Glad you like it." Elias took big slugs from his glass and then refilled it, offering more to Adam who declined; he didn't want to get drunk but that seemed to be Elias' goal. So Elias and Adam sat while Rachel and Sonny slept and Elias explained the situation with Jeb Truck.

It seemed that Truck had offered to buy Elias Fells' adjoining property many times and each time, Fell refused. Then slowly, Truck began taking possession of any cattle that wandered onto his property. Elias swore that Truck's men were tearing down lines, stealing the cattle and changing brands. He went to the sheriff of the nearby town who said that he had no jurisdiction over the cattle business—didn't know enough and didn't really care. He did offer advice though, give up on cattle and take to farming.

So Elias decided that he would go and take back his cattle; it was obvious which ones had a running iron used on them and had his brand, E joined with a hanging F for Elias Fell, changed to a JE with a hanging B for JEB. But while Elias was out gathering a few of his beeves on Truck's land, cattle that he would have sworn in court were his, he was shot and left to die. He managed to get back on his horse and he said that he must have passed out a few yards from the house as the next thing he knew, Sonny and Rachel were dragging him across the ground toward the house.

While he was recovering, he convinced Rachel to get the sheriff; he wanted Truck and his men arrested even though he didn't know who had shot him but the sheriff refused; if Elias was trespassing, the sheriff said, then he deserved to be shot and was damn lucky he wasn't dead and another thing, Elias couldn't even say exactly who had shot him. Who should be arrested? And Truck had visited Elias while he was recovering in his home and offered to buy his property again. Rachel wanted Elias to sell and move on—she was afraid- but Elias refused; it was his land and he wasn't leaving.

By the end of the story, Elias was obviously drunk. He became angry as he told Adam the events and Adam watched, all his muscles tense; he didn't like drunks—they were too unpredictable.

"I'll help you fix up your property," Adam said, "but I don't want anything to do with this man, Truck. I'm not stealing cattle even if they are yours; I know cattle rustling is a hanging offense. I didn't survive the war just to be gunned down or hanged in Kansas. And if you're hoping for a hired gun, I'm not the one you want."

"No." Elias said. "All you have to do is help me get this place in shape. I want the lines put back up good and strong and then I'm going to change my brand even though I was here first, buy some cattle and start again. I've been knocked down before but I always get up."

"Well, thank you for the cider," Adam said. "I'm tired and need a good night's sleep if I'm going to earn my keep."

Elias stood and wavered on his feet. Adam waited to see if he had to catch the man but Elias righted himself and told Adam goodnight and headed off to his bedroom. Adam went to the room off the kitchen in the back of the house, more of a large closet than a room but he didn't need more than that and he was pleased to see that Rachel had made up a bed of sorts for him. It wasn't particularly soft but it was softer than the ground where he had slept for so long—so very long.

Adam stripped and then lay on the blankets that had been placed on the floor. There was even a pillow for his head—much better than his saddle which had served for years now. He lay down and pulled the covers up; the room was surprisingly warm and then Adam realized that the oven was on the other side of the wall; no wonder the room was warm and cozy and as long as no mice scampered across him as he slept, he was content. And then he could hear muffled noise and he realized that the room also shared a common wall with the Fells' bedroom.

"Oh, hell," he said as he threw an arm over his eyes. He could hear the creaking of their bed and Elias' groans and then all was quiet. He adjusted the blankets to go to sleep but the picture of Elias and Rachel played in his head and it bothered him. Rachel had come to Elias as a woman to keep his house and his child and ended up as Elias' wife and Adam wondered if she loved him. But then love actually mattered less than he had thought so many years ago—it seemed lifetimes ago. It was obvious to Adam that Elias didn't realize how lucky he was.

Why people didn't ever appreciate what they had, Adam wondered but then he hadn't appreciated his blessings either. He had a good home and a family that loved him but he had left it all behind to join the Union Army; he was no different than anyone else. Elias Fell had a lovely, gentle, young wife half his age and what did he do but get drunk, go to her bed and slobber all over her. Adam considered how long it had been since he had known a woman—it had been back in a small town called Calico. She said her name was Bess and she had cost him a dollar and a half. He had worked hard for the money and usually took care of his own needs but that night, Adam had wanted to hold someone and touch the flesh of a woman so he paid and considered it money well-spent. But that had been almost a year ago and he thought of Rachel and her milky skin and envied Elias Fell.

A noise woke Adam up. He sat up and realized that it was coming from the kitchen. Light was beginning to come from the high window in the small room and Adam realized it was morning already. He quickly dressed and walked out of the room and saw Rachel Fell standing at the stove in a flannel robe. She looked even thinner and younger than she had the night before. Her curly red hair was like a cloud about her face.

"Morning, ma'am," Adam said. "That coffee smells good—could I bother you for a cup?" He hadn't yet fully walked into the kitchen.

"Morning, Mr. Cartwright. Please, sit down. I'll pour you a cup." He smiled and sat down at the kitchen table. He could see knife marks on it and the wood was split from drying out by being so close to the heat. The kitchen chair creaked as well when he sat down. Rachel placed a large white mug before him filled with coffee.

"Help yourself to sugar—well, it's sorghum-and cream," she said pointing to the bowl and small cream pitcher in the middle of the table. "It's been a long time since we had real sugar. Can I get you something to eat?"

"Whatever you fix for your husband and Sonny is fine with me. I don't want to be any trouble."

"You're no trouble. Elias will sleep a bit longer—he had too much of that hard cider last night and Sonny, since it's a school day, he'll sleep as long as I let him but I don't have to wake him for another fifteen minutes or so. I just wanted to get up and make the coffee." Adam looked at her; she did tend to run on, he thought, but then he found it pleasant. "Mind if I sit and join you?"

"Please do," Adam said, rising from the chair and holding out another one for her.

Rachel laughed lightly. "Don't get up, Mr. Cartwright." Rachel poured herself a mug. "And as for pulling out my chair, makes me feel odd. If you'll just sit down, I'd be more comfortable."

Adam smiled at her. "Whatever you would prefer." He sat down and watched as she held the mug in her two hands. She had slender fingers and the backs of her hands were freckled from the sun. He imagined that she worked hard as her nails were short and her hands not cared for. Adam had known ladies before and they always had manicured nails and smooth hands and Rachel wasn't one of them. Suddenly his heart swelled for her. "How old are you, Mrs. Fell, if you don't mind my asking."

"I don't mind; people always want to know when they find out I'm Elias' wife and not his daughter. I'm twenty-two."

"I see."

"How old are you, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Thirty-eight but I feel a hundred and I probably look two hundred."

"I guess war does that to a person. I know it did me. If it weren't for the war…I'm talking too much. Excuse me."

"I've heard nothing but my own voice for so long," Adam said, "that it's nice to hear someone else."

Rachel shyly smiled. "Don't misunderstand why I'm asking but is what you're wearing the only set of clothes you have?"

Adam looked down at his well-worn shirt and trousers. "Yes, ma'am, they're all I have. I suppose they look a bit ragged and they're not the cleanest—I apologize for coming to your table looking like this and I imagine I smell pretty bad too."

"Just a moment," Rachel said and left the table only to return a minute later with a man's soft flannel shirt and folded trousers.

"Today's laundry day. I'd be glad to wash your clothes along with ours and you can wear these today." She handed the clothes to Adam.

"Whose are these?" He held up the shirt; it was too small for Elias and too large for Sonny.

"I think that they may have belonged to Elias' oldest son—I never asked. They've been in a cedar chest."

"If you think it'll be all right with Elias." Adam looked at Rachel's blue eyes; she seemed pretty in the morning light that was now slanting in the window. It formed a nimbus behind her.

"Sure, it will. You go change and I'll take your clothes for washing."

"Yes, ma'am, thank you." He smiled at her, went to his small room, changed and came back out holding his soiled laundry.

"Drop 'em in that basket on the floor there," Rachel said as she stirred batter in a large bowl. "That's my wash." Adam did as he was told. "I hope you like hotcakes," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, I certainly do." So Adam sat and drank coffee while Rachel talked and he smiled at her innocent chatter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Rachel told Adam how both her brothers as well as the boy she was to marry had been killed in the war. Her mother had broken down after the deaths of her sons and she soon fell ill and died and then her father died of the influenza. So Rachel saw Elias' advertisement in their town's paper for a housekeeper and she answered him. He wrote back offering her the job and he sent her five dollars for the fare. She had been delighted when she saw Sonny, they took to each other and she was educated enough to help him with his numbers and reading. And then Elias had told her that he couldn't have a young girl around the house and if they weren't married, she'd have to go. Rachel, having no place else to go, married him.

"I don't want it to seem that Elias was…well, he was good to me and I had nothing else, no one else…Elias is right, I talk too much. I need to wake up Sonny for school." Rachel headed out after placing a plate of pancakes and a pitcher of syrup before him. "We're out of butter—I didn't have time yet to churn any. Sorry."

"That's all right." Adam said as he reached for the pitcher. But then Rachel stopped beside him. Elias had walked in.

"Where're you in such an all-fired hurry to go?" Elias asked. "Coffee ready?"

"Yes, coffee's on the stove. I have to wake up Sonny."

I already did," Elias said. "Now get me some coffee and what's for breakfast?" It was then that he noticed Adam and stared as if he had forgotten who this man with dark hair was.

"Morning," Adam, said as he ate a forkful of pancakes.

"Morning." Then Elias spoke to Rachel who had just ladled batter on the hot griddle. "Come here."

Rachel looked at Adam and he saw fear in her eyes. She walked over and Elias grabbed her arm and pulled her into the next room. Adam sat, barely breathing while he listened. He heard a slap and a small cry from Rachel. His instinct was to jump up and go to intervene, to strike Elias and ask him how he liked being hit but something in him was dead; he wasn't chivalrous and he wasn't a hero—he was just a tired, weary, heart-sick man who had nothing and who now was nothing. And it wasn't his business. This was between a husband and a wife and he had no right to interfere—none. He was merely a passing stranger.

Elias tried to keep his voice down but Adam could hear.

"You had no right to go in that trunk and you sure as hell had no right to give him or anyone Danny's clothes to wear. Stay out of what's none of your business, understand?"

"It's just until I can wash his clothes, that's all. I didn't think you'd…it didn't seem like such a bad thing. I'm sorry."

"You just keep your hands off things and your mouth shut. Now go make breakfast and don't go palaverin' just because you have someone here who'll listen."

Elias sat down at the table and Rachel quietly served him breakfast. Adam noticed the red mark on her pale skin. Sonny came in pulling up his suspenders with one hand and rubbing sleep out of his eyes with the other.

"Mornin' Mr. Cartwright," the boy said as Rachel placed a plate of pancakes in front of him.

"Call me, Adam, okay?"

"Okay, the boy said. "Thank you, Rachel," he looked up at her. "What happened to your face?" The boy's brow furrowed as he watched her pour him a glass of milk and place it on the table.

Elias answered his son. "Nothing happened. Now eat and get to the Bowens before they take off for school without you."

"Yes, sir." Sonny ate but kept glancing at Rachel until she left the kitchen and she never returned until Sony had left for school and Adam and Elias had gone to town for supplies.

Rachel walked into the empty kitchen. She saw that the plates and cups and utensils had all been rinsed and stacked by the sink and the table was still slightly damp from being wiped. She smiled. _It must be him. Elias and Sonny never stack their plates—just up and leave. He has manners and thought of me. _Rachel sat in Adam's vacated chair and wondered about the dark man who had ridden up. He stirred her in a way that Elias never did—probably never could and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him and to lay with him—a man who would consider her pleasure instead of just his own. _Foolish woman_, she told herself and wearily rose to wash the dishes.

Adam sat alongside Elias on the buckboard. He didn't know how to broach the subject of the clothes he was wearing or even if he should but somehow he wanted to defend Rachel.

"It was nice of Rachel to offer to wash my clothes for me. The last time they were washed was when my horse and I were almost drowned crossing a swollen creek—my horse slipped on a rock and I thought we were both done for. And I'll be damned but my horse didn't manage to right himself and get to the other side before I did." Adam chuckled at his story but Elias didn't; he wasn't in a good humor.

"Rachel pokes her nose in where it doesn't belong. I don't begrudge you clean clothes, Mr. Cartwright, but those were my son, Danny's. It was my place to offer them to you—not hers. She never knew my son so I guess to her his memory doesn't mean much. It was odd this morning seeing you wearing them—put me in mind of my boy and brought his loss all back again. That might make me a fool, to still feel the way I do about losing my son, but every day I miss my boy."

"It's hard to lose someone and I don't think a person ever gets over the loss but Rachel is a good woman—kind and gentle. You're lucky to have her. Maybe she needs a bit more kindness directed her way. Women are like that."

"Rachel gets what she deserves. My first wife, she knew her place and she didn't talk constantly about foolish things and was a hell of a lot warmer. Rachel acts like a stranger to me sometimes."

"I've found all women are different. Whether that's good or bad, I don't know. It takes time to learn each woman but they all have things in common."

"Yeah," Elias said, "that slit between their legs."

Adam started to respond that no, Elias was wrong-women, all women, want to know they're appreciated and loved but he stayed quiet; it wouldn't do to show too much interest in the Fell's marriage. After all, in a few weeks or maybe days, he'd move on and this stop would only be a memory, just another milestone on his journey home. They rode in silence the rest of the way to town.

"Mornin', Mr. Sweet," Elias said. "I have a list of things I need."

"Mornin',Elias," Mr. Sweet replied nervously. He looked over at Adam who stood behind Elias and who looked around the mercantile at the merchandise. "Um…you have the money to pay for this, don't you?" Mr. Sweet seemed nervous as he fingered the list.

"Put the stuff on my bill. I don't owe you anything. I paid it off with that basket of eggs from Rachel's chickens and those aprons she made. I don't see them hanging in here anymore so you must have sold them."

"Yes, yes. They were mighty popular—sold them quickly. If your wife wants to make more, I'll be glad to give her the fabric—I'll give you two bolts of print homespun; the women like the prints and the way Rachel mixes the prints to make them fetching. I'll sell the aprons once they're finished and put the money as a future credit. Mrs. Fell's mighty handy with her needle. But, um…I was told not to give you any more credit—cash only."

"Who told you that? Truck? Did Jeb Truck tell you that?" Elias' face reddened as he became angrier.

"Well, um…I was told that you're losing your ranch and not to give you any more credit 'cause you might be leaving any time now. I'm sorry, Elias. It's been a hard winter and people haven't paid their bills and I have my own to pay. Cash only."

"I asked you…" Elias began to shout and pounded a fist on the counter and Mr. Sweet backed away against the shelves behind him, fear on his face.

Adam stepped up and put a hand on Elias' arm as he addressed Mr. Sweet.

"Were you told to not give me credit? A war veteran?" Adam smiled in anything but a friendly manner.

"I don't even know who you are, mister?"

"Then that means no. Open up a line of credit for me, please. I won't be going anywhere for a long time." That wasn't Adam's plan, to stay for any great length, but suddenly he was determined to remain; he always fought for the underdog except in the war but that was because he didn't realize that there was more than one group of people being beaten down. Mr. Sweet hesitated. "Name's Adam Cartwright and although I'm usually a peaceful man, if I have to wait much longer for this list to be filled, well, I might become impatient." Adam slid the list further across the counter.

"Yes, Mr. Cartwright." Mr. Sweet approached again and reached under the counter which caused Adam to undo the trigger loop of his gun in its holster and rest his hand on it. "I'm just getting my book out—no gun." Adam relaxed and Mr. Sweet pulled out a ledger and started a page of credit for Adam Cartwright and then he set about filling the order.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright," Elias said and put out his hand. Adam shook it.

"Call me, Adam."

"Elias. I'll wait out by the buckboard."

Adam watched Elias walk out and through the window, saw him climb up to the seat. Adam fished around in his pocket and pulled out the few coins he owned; it was all the money he had so he had been careful to slip the money in his pocket from the wool trousers before they were to be washed. He walked over to Mr. Sweet. "Throw in a nickel's worth of candy. Here." He handed the money over to Mr. Sweet. "And give me a length of that blue ribbon with the rest. Adam poured the remaining coins in the store-owner's hand. He watched as the man measured out and clipped a length of the bright blue grosgrain. Mr. Sweet rolled it and was going to put it with the items he had already gathered for Adam but Adam put out his hand for it. "I'll take it if you don't mind." He slipped the roll of ribbon in the shirt pocket. Even though Adam knew he shouldn't buy her anything since it wasn't his place, he wanted to give the blue ribbon to Rachel for what she had endured for his sake. He knew that it would make her smile and he wanted so much to see her smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Mr. Sweet helped carry out the supplies and he and Adam loaded the buckboard; Mr. Sweet cautiously handed Adam the receipt.

"That'll be due at the end of the month," Mr. Sweet said nervously indicating the paper.

"You'll be paid," Adam said and tucked the paper in his pocket alongside the ribbon and climbed up. Mr. Sweet went back inside his store with a sense of relief and stood at the window watching. That swarthy, dark-haired Cartwright man made him anxious; there was something about his eyes. Mr. Sweet always imagined that was the way the eyes of a killer would look, as if he himself didn't care if he lived or died so what could another man's life mean to him?

Elias was about to pull away when they both noticed the sheriff approaching them.

"Mornin', Elias," the sheriff said but he was looking at Adam. "Don't believe I've seen you around these parts, mister."

"No, you haven't," Adam said. He noticed that the sheriff was assessing him and taking stock of his military-issue revolver and holster.

"Hire yourself a new hand, Elias?" The sheriff turned his attention to Elias.

"Yes. He's just passing through and needed work and I need the help. I was shot not too long ago. Remember, Sheriff?"

"I remember. You were trespassing, remember?" The sheriff now addressed Adam. "What's your name? I don't cotton to strangers in my jurisdiction and how'd you come to have a military issue holster and firearm?"

Adam exchanged looks with Elias and then looked back to the sheriff. "Name's Adam Cartwright. I happen to have the holster and gun because they were issued to me and the army didn't ask for their return. That answer your questions?"

"Now don't get so high and mighty with me. I'm the law here in Direville and you'd best respect the law if you want your short stay to be peaceable, understand?"

"Oh, I understand," Adam said lightly. "You couldn't make it clearer and I assure you, I have nothing but the highest respect for the law."

"Glad to hear that. Now you two have a nice day." The sheriff stepped back and watched as Elias snapped the reins on the hose's back and turned the buckboard to head back to his property.

Once they were some distance, Elias said, "Thank you for what you did in the store. I appreciate it and I'll see the bill gets paid. It'll take a while if you don't mind staying on. I'll tell Rachel to make more aprons and she can also crochet some. I'll have her make some doilies and such. Those fancy townspeople can't seem to get enough of them."

"How would Rachel find the time to do all that and keep the house?" From what Adam could see, Rachel had her hands full. She tended a vegetable garden, fed the chickens and cows as well as milked them, gathered eggs, washed and cooked and then lay down for Elias at night.

"She'll find the time; she always does."

"Well, I feel I should pay some of it and I will. I asked for sugar instead of sorghum. Rachel can use it in her baking."

"Rachel's learned to make do with what we can afford. Nevertheless, I'll pay."

They rode in silence for a while and Adam thought of the blue ribbon in his pocket. He was having second thoughts about giving it to Rachel. Elias' voice broke into his thoughts.

"Adam, you sure I can't hire your gun?"

"I'm sure but tell me, when did This Truck start wanting your land?" Adam was curious as to why Elias Fell's land was so desirable. In his opinion, it could, at its best, barely sustain a hundred head of cattle. It seemed now as if it couldn't even sustain the Fells.

"Well," Elias said, "I guess it was about two—close to three years ago-right before my son was killed. That was the first time that I felt that Truck wanted me and my family dead—or scared enough to leave so he could have my land."

"Anything interesting happen before that?"

Elias looked over at Adam, his brow furrowed. "Now that you mention it, yeah. I found three men on my property. They said they were geologists hired by Truck. They had this hollow pole forced into the ground and when I held my rifle on them and told them to get the hell off my land, they packed up their gear and hauled out. They left behind these round, long lengths of dirt—packed dirt. It was after that that Truck offered to buy my land for the first time."

"Did those men tell you what they were looking for?"

"No, and I didn't ask. I figured they were looking for silver or such but you know this land doesn't produce silver. And the funny part is that the area they were lookin' at isn't even a good patch; it's about fifty feet in from the fence line and has this black muck patch. But I guess that is when the trouble started now that I consider."

"Can you show it to me, the area, before we head back to the house?"

"Yeah, but why is it important?"

"I'm not sure but I have a feeling that's why Truck wants your land and why he's offered you so much money for it. Now he's hoping to force you off. Probably hoping you can't pay your taxes. I'll be able to tell you more once I see the area—that is if I'm right."

Elias was puzzled but he turned the buckboard to take Adam to the area.

Once they arrived, both men climbed down. It wasn't much—held a few scraggly clumps of grass and some thin trees but as Adam scanned the ground he saw it, what Truck wanted. He walked over to a black spot that was about five feet wide. Adam kneeled beside it and using a stick, dipped it in and pulled it out to smell the black, viscous substance. Adam stood up and held the stick out to Elias.

"This is why he wants your land. Oil."

"Oil? Why the hell would he want that? I've got no use for it." Elias took the stick and touched the substance, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Truck wants it because this oil can make you—or him-a rich man. There's probably more on your property, more spots. I wouldn't be surprised if he's discovered some oil on his own property but I'll bet those geologists were taking core samples and told him that you have oil-rich property. Passing through Pennsylvania, they were already talking about seep holes—what this is-and how oil was going to pave the way for the future. You see, raw oil can be refined. They can produce kerosene, and types of fuel that can power machinery; prototypes for engines that use fuel from oil byproducts are already being created. They say that oil is going to open up the world. More people are beginning to drop wells, not for water anymore but for oil."

"Well, I'll be damned." Elias stood in contemplation. "So how do I go about getting some wealth from this oil on my property?"

"I'm not quite sure but if it was me, I'd contact a geologist like Truck did to come out and write a survey of where the oil lies. And I'd watch my back."

Elias and Adam moved back to the buckboard and took their seats. Elias picked up the reins.

"I'm not much on writing letters, Adam. Would you be willing to write one for me—or at least tell me the words to put down?"

"Yes. I think I could do that but let me ask you—do you own the land fee simple?"

"What does that mean?"

"Well, there are two types of ownership—just owning the surface rights—that means that anything found on the surface, gold nuggets and such are yours, and fee simple, meaning that you own even what's below the surface. If you don't own what's lying untapped below the surface then the state can claim it. That was all the talk in Pennsylvania."

"How do I know?"

"You'll have to check the legal documents that were drawn up and signed when you purchased the land but my guess is that it's fee simple. Most land is sold that way but I think it's going to change soon and land buyers are going to have to double-check their documents."

"But even if I own the land—fee simple as you called it, I don't have the money or the time to drop a well for that oil; I have bills to pay and a family to feed. And what would I do with the oil even if I did?"

"You could sell the mineral rights to a company—many are forming back east—oil companies, and they would drop wells on your property if that's what you want to do. But you'd have to give up ranching probably, that is depending on how many wells they'd find, and put up with company people on your property and there's no saying where they'd find oil. But you'd be a rich man."

"What if I choose not to sell the mineral rights? What do you think would happen?"

"I think Jeb Truck will force you off-or kill you. Or someone else once word gets out."

Elias nodded as if to himself. The two men rode the rest of the way in silence. At least now Adam felt he understood what was really going on and he wondered how safe any of them were as long as Truck lusted after the oil rights on Elias' land.

Rachel came out on the porch as they pulled up in the buckboard. Adam saw his clothes hanging on a line alongside the family's wash.

"Lunch is ready," she said to Adam as he pulled out the sack of flour from the back. "It's just some cold ham and black bread but I have a rhubarb pie in the over that should be done any time now. I have some cream and if you like, you can pour some over the pie if it's too hot."

"Thank you, ma'am. It sounds good." Adam smiled at her and Rachel grinned back until Elias reprimanded her.

"Wife, I swear that you talk more than a group of gossiping church women. Go serve the food. Oh, and it looks like Mr. Sweet wants more of you aprons to sell. There's two bolts of cloth in the back for you. You'll need to get started tonight. Anything else you can make will help. Adam set up credit in his name for us."

Adam walked to Rachel with a crate holding the sack of flour, a smaller sack of sugar, salt and a few canned goods. "Any place other than the kitchen table you want these, ma'am?"

"Um, yes, I'll show you." Rachel turned and Adam followed her into the small kitchen watching her supple figure as she moved. _Like a young deer_, Adam thought. "Please put them here on the floor. I thought I'd feed you two on the kitchen table. If you'd like to wash up before lunch…"

"Oh," Adam said. "I almost forgot. I had a few bits so I bought Sonny some penny candy." Adam reached into the pants' pocket and pulled out a small brown paper bag, giving it to her. "I hope it's all right."

Rachel smiled. "Oh, you've won Sonny as a friend for life now. I can't remember the last time Sonny had any candy except what I make but nothing's as good as store-bought. I'm tempted to filch a piece for myself." Her eyes glittered with a touch of mischief and Adam grinned. He hesitated a moment and then reached into the shirt pocket.

"This is for you. I hope Elias won't mind my giving it to you but I wanted to thank you for…well, for doing my wash and feeding me." He handed the roll of blue ribbon to her.

Rachel took it and stared at it as if she had never seen a simple roll of grosgrain ribbon before and didn't recognize it.

Adam felt uncomfortable, regretting that he had given her anything; it wasn't his place after all—he had overstepped. "I just thought maybe you might want to wear it in your hair or…" He watched as Rachel ran a section of the ribbon through her fingers. Then she looked up at him and Adam feared she was going to cry.

"I haven't had a pretty thing in so long that…" Rachel quickly tucked the length of ribbon in her apron pocket as Elias came in the room with a few other of the purchases: coffee and a jug of cider. Anyone more sensitive would have suspected that something was going on between his wife and their hired hand but Elias could only think of his stomach and the oil on his property.

"Rachel, stop running your mouth and serve our food. I'm hungry and Adam and me have the barn to repair. And don't let that pie burn. You know I hate it when the crust is too browned." He sat down and Rachel began to put the food on the table, smiling once more at Adam before he went out back to wash up for lunch.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Sonny had been excited when Rachel had given him the small bag of candy after dinner. Rachel said that Mr. Cartwright had purchased them for him but she had held them back until he ate a good meal. "You know," she had told Sonny, "that you'd eat that whole bag and have no appetite left. "

"Gee, Mr. Cartwright, thank you." Sonny grinned widely and popped a gum drop in his mouth.

"Sonny," Rachel said, "where are your manners?"

"I said thank you," Sonny then realized what she meant. "Oh, would you like one, Mr. Cartwright?" Sonny held out the bag.

"No, thank you. I'm not one much for candy but now Rachel's rhubarb pie that I had after lunch—that was what I like as far as sweets. That was a better pie than even our Chinese cook at home could make even if he tried. He thinks rhubarb is only for purges and the hogs and refuses to use it, even when we run out of canned peaches."

Rachel blushed and looked down. "Thank you. I'm pleased you thought so highly of it."

"Don't put ideas in her head about her baking, Adam. She's not half the cook or baker that my wife, Sally was." Adam said nothing and Elias asked Sonny for a piece of candy. Sonny reluctantly held out the bag and Elias stuck his fingers in and pulled out a peppermint. Then Sonny held the bag toward Rachel.

"Rachel would you like one?" It was obvious he hoped she didn't.

"No, Sonny, they're yours. Now you go do your practice ciphering for school but don't make yourself sick by eating all your candy at one time. You wake up with a stomach ache and it's a dose of castor oil for you."

Sonny pushed his chair in and thanked Adam one more time and left for his room.

"You shouldn't have wasted your money on candy," Elias said to Adam. "Rachel makes some sugar candy sometimes and he eats too much of that as it is."

"It was only a few pennies and I don't mind…."

"More coffee?" Rachel asked, standing and taking up the plates.

"Here. Let me help you," Adam said standing to gather the serving bowl and platter.

"That's all right," Rachel said. "It's no trouble. Sit back down and I'll bring out the coffee pot. We have sugar now instead of sorghum so that's a real treat. I'll have a cup with both sugar and cream when I cut out my apron patterns."

Adam noticed that Rachel hadn't mentioned the blue ribbon. He was certain he knew why; she was afraid that Elias would be angry, chastise her for wanting fancy things and might very well make her use the ribbon as decoration on an apron to get a higher price for it. Or he might tell Adam to leave and Adam had the impression that Rachel very much wanted him to stay.

Elias offered Adam a drink of hard cider as they sat in the parlor. Adam accepted one glass and sipped at it as he wrote a letter sitting at the small secretary. Adam had examined the purchase documents of Elias' land and found that he owned all the mineral rights to the property. Elias sat, satisfied with the discovery and drank more hard cider and even hummed to himself. Adam could only imagine what Elias was thinking.

Rachel worked in the kitchen with her muslin pattern cutting out the shapes for the aprons to be stitched. But she noticed as she glanced out to the parlor, that Adam writing. She was curious so she contrived a reason to go out to where her husband and Adam sat.

"Mr. Cartwright," she said as she came out holding the coffee pot and a cup and saucer. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

Adam looked and saw her standing beside him. "Well since you have it here, yes. I wouldn't have bothered you for one but since you offered." He smiled and pushed back the chair so that Rachel could place the cup and saucer on the desk top.

Rachel poured and glanced at the paper; she couldn't understand the small bit she was able to read. "Are you writing your family?"

"No, the state geological department to send out a geologist. There may be oil on your property that might make you a rich woman."

"Really?" Rachel's eyes widened—the vivid blue put Adam in mind of the clear skies over the Ponderosa.

"Rachel, we aren't rich yet and may never be; it takes money to make money and we haven't got any. Now go back to your work; we have bills to pay."

Rachel glanced once more at Adam, then still holding the coffee pot, she reluctantly went back to the kitchen. She replaced the coffee pot on the stove and looked down at the fabric and pinned pattern. She was tired of working, not having sat down for more than a few minutes all day. At least she considered, she would be able to sit while stitching the aprons. Rachel stretched her back and then went back to her pattern cutting.

It was late, Elias had left for bed and Adam had finished with the lists of what he felt should be planted since gathering more cattle would be impossible at the moment. As he had told Elias, "You still have to eat so you might as well raise a little grain and such." He rose and carried his cup and saucer to the kitchen and was surprised to see Rachel still working. She had begun stitching the hems around the sides of the aprons.

"Oh, Mr. Cartwright, I would've gotten that. It's late and you must be tired. You go on to bed."

"I would think you'd be tired," Adam said as he pumped water over the stoneware. "You've been up since before me."

"Oh, I have so much to do but I guess I should go to bed. Did Elias go?"

"About fifteen minutes ago. I woke him up; he had fallen asleep in his chair. I was looking through the seed catalogues and the farm equipment. I think that you might do better growing wheat and maybe a few fruit trees than cattle. I could make you some strawberry boxes and you could plants blueberries…well, I was just considering."

"Elias would never go with that; he wants to raise cattle. According to him, men raise cattle and women grow the plants for food but it would be nice to have my own strawberries to put up preserves."

"Well, you order a seed packet and I'll build the box. I know the perfect place for it too."

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright."

"You're welcome. Goodnight." Adam left the kitchen and went to the small room, stripping off the clothes that had been Elias' son. He folded them neatly and noticed then that Rachel had placed his clean clothes on one of the shelves that had held jars and other goods but was now practically empty. He lay down and pulled the blankets up and quickly fell asleep, dreaming about digging into the earth, digging a deep hole while the dirt constantly fell back in. Then suddenly he woke; someone had touched him.

"What…Mrs. Fell? What is it? Is something wrong?" Adam sat up and in the light from the high, narrow window, Rachel's white skin seemed to glow as she kneeled beside him.

"No, I just…please." She reached out for him and touched his face and then ran her hand down to his chest, placing the palm flat against his skin. "I just…" She leaned over and kissed him and Adam froze. He knew he shouldn't encourage her. He was a guest in their home and she was Elias' wife. But he was lonely, perhaps lonelier than she was and it would be hard to say which of the two was more damaged by life. But Rachel was lovely and good and warm and Adam found himself kissing her face, her mouth and then her white neck. He pulled her closer to him while she wrapped her arms about him and surrendered to him completely; a silent sob rose in his throat at the tenderness of women-of Rachel. And it wasn't long before the two of them were grasping for one another and finding comfort in each other that made them forget all their suffering. And for the first time in what to Adam seemed like a lifetime ago, he fell asleep cradling a woman next to him and feeling her smooth skin beneath his hands and her soft, fragrant hair against his throat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Adam woke alone. He had to pause to remember if Rachel had really come to him or if he had only dreamed it; so many of his dreams seemed real that he often woke up, shattered from dreaming about the battlefield and sometimes the dying soldier was Joe or Hoss and the grief he felt was so acute that he woke up almost sobbing. But Rachel lying beneath him and encouraging his kisses had been real, her hands on his shoulders and the all sounds she made—all of it had been real. He was sure of that. And as he lay on his pallet in the back room, he heard her in the kitchen moving about her day which started before dawn. So Adam rose and dressed in his clean clothes—they smelled like the air-and taking the loaned clothes with him, he went into the kitchen. Rachel looked to him and then dropped her gaze.

"Good morning, Mr. Cartwright. I hope you slept well." She went back to making biscuits, cutting out each biscuit with an empty tin can and then placing it on the cooking sheet.

Adam moved closer to her. He wanted her to acknowledge their night, the way their bodies had joined but he wouldn't push her; Adam could understand her embarrassment and perhaps her shame. He knew that he should feel shame as well and he was slightly surprised to realize that he didn't. A few years ago, he knew he would have but then a few years ago he would have refused her advances. "I have the clothes you loaned me." Adam held them out.

"Just place them there, on the counter. I'll put them in the wash." She never stopped cutting out the biscuit dough and didn't look at him.

"Rachel, about last night…" Adam wanted to say something to her and reached out to touch her hair but Elias came into the kitchen. His face was puffy from too much hard cider and he pulled out one of the chairs, the legs scraping on the floor, and sat down heavily. Rachel wiped her hands on her apron and poured him a mug of coffee and placed it before him.

"Goddamn, Rachel," he said, picking up some thread, "One of these days a thread is going to end up in my food. Can't you keep this place clean?" Elias dropped the thread on the floor and Rachel bent down and picked it up.

"It's just thread, Elias. I worked late last night and must not have seen it. It wouldn't kill you if it accidently worked its way into your food."

"Now you listen to me," Elias said rising from his chair.

Adam felt his stomach knot and his fists clenched. "I think we should post that letter to the geologist today. The sooner you have a geological survey, the better off you are. Since that oil seep is so close to Truck's property, well, he might try to move his fence lines over so you need to recheck the maps of your property that are on file."

"The what?" Elias turned his attention to Adam and sat back down. Adam relaxed. His distraction had worked and Rachel went back to frying salt pork to make the gravy for the biscuits that she had slid into the oven.

"Well, I know you didn't ask me but my family owns some property in Nevada and occasionally, someone will claim land that's ours, encroach on it. We have to bring the land abstracts into court to prove where the property lines are; it's the only recourse—the only legal one, that is. If we load the barbed wire spools on the buckboard now, we can just go to repairing line when we get back and that spot with the seep, I think you should repair that area first. Maybe even stick up a no trespass sign."

"You seem to know a lot about land—buying and selling. How'd you get all that knowledge?"

Adam listened to the salt pork popping and sizzling in the pan while Rachel mixed milk and flour together for the gravy base. From the corner of his eye, Adam could tell that she was watching him and Elias.

"My family owns a few acres in Nevada. That's how I know. As I was growing up, I'd go with my father to town every time he bought another few acres. That's how I learned."

"Your family wealthy?"

"They do all right." Adam heard the sound of the liquid mixture being poured into the frying pan while Rachel stirred. She then opened the oven to check on the biscuits and Adam felt the wave of heat.

"Seems to me that your family would send you money to get home instead of you havin' to work your way home."

"I guess they would if I asked them but I haven't. I left on my own and I'll get home on my own terms. Now what do you say about checking the legal papers in town?"

Sonny came into the kitchen and sat down. He looked as if his head would drop, he was so sleepy.

"I say that it's a good idea. Rachel, get me some more coffee."

"It's right here on the stove," Rachel said as she stirred the gravy.

"I'll get it," Adam said. "Could use a cup myself." Adam rose and picked up the coffee pot. He smiled at her and Rachel grinned back shyly.

"Thank you," she said. And Adam knew that the "thank you" meant more than just an acknowledgement of his pouring the coffee.

Adam and Elias worked righting the poles in the fence and then wrapping the barbed wire around them and hammering in nails to hold the wire in place. Elias had loaned him a pair of work gloves and Adam wondered if they had been his son's.

The search for the original papers to the land had gone well although it had taken the clerk a few minutes to find them; the originals had been filed in the county seat. Elias had pointed out the landmarks to Adam that bordered his property and had emphasized that Jeb Truck damn well knew exactly where the lines were. Jeb Truck was simply a thieving pirate.

The sweat ran down Adam's face as he struggled to hold the wire tightly. The day was warm and had he been at home on the Ponderosa, he would have unbuckled his holster and placed in it the buckboard but here he felt safer keeping it on. Since Adam faced Truck's property he first saw the riders in the distance, dust rising behind them, and despite the heat, he felt a sudden chill; there was going to be trouble.

"Elias, riders coming." Adam reached down and unhooked the trigger loop on his holster.

Elias stood up. He had been hammering in the nail to hold the lower tier of barbed wire in place. "Truck's men-think that's Truck with them." Elias hurried to the buckboard parked a few yards away and retrieved his rifle, jacking it in preparation of danger. Then he raised it slightly; he didn't want to seem as if he was going to shoot and give the men a reason to fire at him first. Adam watched and waited and finally the three men rode up and stayed a respectful four feet from the fence.

"Morning, Fell," an older man, about fifty and wearing an odd hat that looked more like a fedora than the standard cowboy headwear, said. He rode a black horse that seemed edgy and kept trying to step away.

"Mornin', Truck. What the hell do you want?" Elias looked from one man to the other.

"Just checking out the fence line. I was going to send some men out to repair it but looks like you got here first." Jeb Truck looked at Adam examining him. "Who are you?"

"None of your goddamn business," Adam evenly answered. He kept an even stare with the man. A smile curled Truck's lips.

"Well, I figure you're either a saddle tramp or a gun hawk. But I just wanted to know what name to put on your grave in case we find we have to bury you." Adam smiled at that one. "Just curious, Fell, what are you fencing in? You thinking about starting a herd again? Seems like your cattle always wander to greener pastures so this is just a futile effort. That's why I never bought this piece years ago—it's a worthless piece."

"I know it's not, Truck," Elias answered and Adam inwardly groaned; Elias was going to reveal his knowledge of the oil on his land. To Adam's way of thinking, that would let Truck know he wasn't ever going to sell the land. Now Truck would have to resort to more "persuasive" means if he wanted the property. "I know that I have oil on my land and I also know that's more than likely why you want it. I wrote for a geologist to come out here and tell me where he believes there's even more oil. If things work out as I think they will, why I'll be as rich as you—maybe even richer and can buy your land. Now I got nothing else to say to you so move on."

"I'm on my own property and I think I'll have my two men here stay and enjoy the day. Your hard work may inspire them." Jeb Truck tipped his hat and rode away. His two men dismounted and sat with their backs against a scrawny tree, rolling themselves cigarettes while their horses grazed nearby.

Elias kept his rifle by him while he and Adam continued with the repairs, the men watching, and after about forty more minutes, Elias suggested they leave the rest until tomorrow. Adam agreed and they loaded up the buckboard while Jeb Truck's men watched. Adam knew that tomorrow, the length of line they had repaired would be down, the posts toppled over and the wire snipped but he said nothing to Elias and they rode on to the small ranch house.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Elias and Adam walked in the house and it was silent. Adam knew that Sonny wasn't due back from school yet but Rachel should be there.

"Rachel?" Elias called out. There was no answer. "Where the hell is that woman to?"

Adam felt his gut tighten; he wondered if Truck had sent more of his men to Elias' house since Elias and Adam were some distance away. Elias called for Rachel out the front door and Adam went into the kitchen but Rachel wasn't there. Adam fought down the panic that rose in his throat. Then relief washed over him; through the open back door he saw Rachel sitting on the steps. He stood behind her and quietly said, "Mrs. Fell?" She looked up at him and her face looked as if she had just suffered a great loss. And then Adam saw why. The back yard was littered with dead chickens.

"They killed all my chickens," she said quietly. She looked back at the yard and Adam stepped down and stood in the yard. "Snapped their necks, one after the other. I tried to stop them but they just pushed me down and laughed. They would grab a chicken and snap it like a whip."

"I'm so sorry," Adam said. "I'm so sorry." He looked around and saw that Rachel's vegetable garden was trampled. "Your garden…"

"They rode their horses on it—over and over again. All my hard work." Her voice broke and she stopped talking.

Elias came to the door and surveyed the scene. "What the hell happened here?"

"Some men killed her chickens and ruined her garden."

"Truck's men. Goddamn him. I've got a good mind to head over there and shoot him dead."

"They'd shoot you first," Adam said. "They're probably waiting for you to step one foot on their property. That's why they did this—to provoke you."

"I can't just sit here and wait for what they do next. I've got to do something!"

Adam moved to Rachel and knelt down in front of her. "Did you recognize any of them, Mrs. Fell?"

"No. I've never seen them before."

Adam stood up and surveyed the yard again. Then he went and picked up the dead chickens, bringing them to where Rachel sat. She watched him, not knowing what he was going to do. After he had the pile of twelve chickens at the foot of the steps, he sat down beside Rachel and picked up one of the chickens and began to pluck the feathers by handfuls. Rachel moved over slightly to give Adam more room, picked up a chicken and began to pluck it following his lead.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Elias asked. He was confused as he saw them sitting together on the back step, feathers floating through the air.

"I suppose," Rachel answered, "I'll make chicken and dumplings for dinner and then fry up a mess of them. Cold fried chicken will last two days. The rest of the plucked and cleaned chickens, Elias can take to town tomorrow morning and try to sell. Mrs. Cowan who owns the Hartford House buys my eggs; she might buy the chickens as well."

Elias said nothing more but turned and went into the house to roll himself a cigarette. Tobacco was expensive and he saved it for a treat but right now, he needed it to soothe his nerves. He had no idea what was going on in his life anymore and not being a man given to analytical thinking, he was overwhelmed and puzzled.

"Thank you," Rachel said to Adam. "I just felt so helpless when it happened and—I didn't know what to do."

Adam smiled at her and reached out to wipe dirt from her cheek. "They didn't hurt you did they? I mean other than pushing you?" Adam had also noticed the dirt on her clothing from when she had fallen.

"No." She carefully worked at picking out the smallest feathers.

"Good. You might be able to save some of the root vegetables like the carrots and onions-potatoes. Taste good in a nice chicken stew."

Rachel's hands stopped and she looked at Adam. He stopped plucking as well. "Thank you, Mr. Cartwright. And not just for this. Thank you for being kind and…just thank you. I'm glad that you're not avoiding me after, well, I'm glad that you stayed on here. I was afraid you'd ride out."

"You're one of the reasons I stayed but I think you and Sonny need to leave—go stay in town or go to family. It's not safe around here anymore. When you couldn't be found, well, I thought the worst and I was relieved to find that only the chickens were dead in the yard and not you. Do you have any place to go?"

"This is my home; I have no place else. Besides, I won't leave." She went back to plucking chickens.

Adam considered and then spoke. "I can wire my family for money, enough to send you wherever you want to go. Take Sonny with you and if you like, I can even send you to my family in Nevada to stay. They'd welcome you."

"Thank you but you don't owe me anything for last night or anything else, but if it's that easy for you to get money, maybe you should wire them for your own stage fare and leave—this really isn't your fight."

"I think it is. After all, I'm sitting here plucking chickens that Truck's men killed and if you'll get me a knife and a wash bucket filled with cold water, I'll start gutting them too. This," he said holding up the limp chicken, "makes it my battle. Union Army Captain Adam Cartwright turned chicken-plucker. Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

Rachel giggled and then began to laugh and Adam joined her and Elias, sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and smoking his cigarette, heard them through the open door and realized that he hadn't heard Rachel laugh once since the day she arrived. And he wondered what she and Adam Cartwright could possibly find funny on a day like today.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Adam wiped his mouth with the napkin. "That was exceptional chicken and dumplings," Adam said.

"Why thank you, Mr. Cartwright. Please, have some more dumplings. Help yourself." Rachel indicated the bowl sitting in the middle of the table.

"Oh, no thank you, ma'am—I couldn't eat another bite although I wish I could. Mighty tasty."

Sonny held up his plate. "I could eat some more, Rachel."

Adam laughed and so did Rachel as she spooned a few more dumplings on his plate. Elias surveyed the other three people sitting at his table and wondered how such a bad day as today had been could result in a meal that was almost festive. Rachel smiled and laughed and Sonny, between bites, told them about only missing one question on the math test. Adam Cartwright had congratulated Sonny as had Rachel and Elias felt a bit of an outsider in his own house. Didn't they realize the loss they had suffered? They may be feasting now but in a few days, they would be hungry with nothing to eat—at least that's the way he saw it. And he wondered if he should tell Adam Cartwright to move on. But then Elias remembered that he needed Adam. The man had knowledge of contracts and the law that he lacked and he also needed the help, not just Adam's strong back for the hard work but Elias knew that if it came down to it, he would have Adam's gun behind him against Truck's men.

And then there was the money. While Rachel was in the kitchen cooking up the chicken and preparing the dough for dumplings, Adam told Elias that he had decided to wire his father for money; he had his own account in Virginia City and his father had the authority to withdraw funds in his absence. Adam said he would pay the bill at the dry goods store since he had opened the account, and also retain a lawyer whom he would be able to convince to work on a contingency fee. Elias didn't understand and Adam explained that the lawyer would get a percentage from the first well drilled on Elias' property. In a way, Adam had added, that would be a type of insurance for Elias; if Truck managed somehow to steal the land, the lawyer would have full knowledge of what had occurred previously and would fight to receive his share of the money.

"You think a lawyer would work that way?" Elias asked.

Adam chuckled. "I don't think any lawyer could turn down such a lucrative proposition. Avarice seems to be in their mothers' milk and they sucked it up."

So Elias decided Adam should stay on and he also noticed that Rachel had never looked as beautiful as she did that night. Adam thought so as well.

That evening as Elias and Adam sat by the fire, Rachel sat in the rocking chair and worked on the aprons; she wanted to have a few finished as Adam had suggested they take Rachel into town with them. He wasn't sure it was safe to leave her alone and she could sell the extra chickens which wouldn't be fried up in the morning. Rachel said she could have a few aprons finished by then as well. Elias reluctantly agreed and Rachel felt excitement at going into town. As she stitched, she went over in her mind what she would wear and perhaps, she thought, she would cut off a length of the blue ribbon Adam had given her and slide her grandmother's gold locket on it. It was the only piece of jewelry Rachel owned besides her thin wedding band. Inside the oval locket was a lock of red-blond hair that her mother had told her was from an unknown man—not her grandfather's. Rachel's mother said her mother had never told her whose hair it was but she suspected that it was from a man her mother had loved and who had died. Rachel had left the hair inside as she found it mysterious and romantic and secretly thrilled at imagining her grandmother's secret lover.

For the first time that night, Adam talked a bit about the war—not too much or in too much detail but Elias asked him some questions and he tried to answer as honestly as he could but he moderated the details. For one, Rachel was there and it didn't seem proper to talk about such things and for another, he didn't want to speak of the horrors out loud; better to keep them hidden from the light. After a time, Rachel stood up and said goodnight. Adam stood up but Rachel avoided his eyes and laying down her work on the seat of the chair, she left the room. Shortly after, Adam said goodnight to Elias and went to his room, closing the door behind him. He quickly undressed and crawled under the blankets but he found he was tense, listening, waiting.

Adam felt he didn't want Rachel to come to him. He had found that his conscience bothered him and yet, he hoped she would. He groaned remembering her skin and her mouth. "Goddamn fool," he called himself. "You want to be shot by a jealous husband just for a little comfort?" Eventually Adam fell asleep and when he woke in the morning, he was alone. He realized he felt such loss that he wanted to weep; Rachel hadn't come to him.

Adam dressed and ran a hand over his cheeks and chin; he needed a shave. He walked into the kitchen and Rachel was frying chicken, the hot, melted lard popping when any of the chicken juices mixed with it. Rachel leaned back, stretching out her arm and turning the pieces with a long-handled fork in order to avoid being spattered.

"Looks like you need a longer arm," Adam said and Rachel turned at his voice and laughed.

"I could. There's fried chicken for breakfast," she said motioning to a platter covered with a cloth on which pieces of aromatic, golden-crusted chicken were piled to drain off the fat. "And there's fried chicken for lunch and for dinner as well. I hope you like it."

"I love fried chicken," Adam said. "Here let me turn the pieces." He rolled down his shirt sleeve and took the fork from Rachel and she stepped away.

"I think some of those are almost done. I have about half a chicken more to fry; I'm running out of lard."

"Well, we'll just buy you more in town." Adam probed a chicken thigh with the fork to check doneness.

"Mr. Cartwright?" Rachel asked. "Why are you so kind to us—to me?"

Adam thought a moment. And then he turned to her. "I think all of you need help and I guess I still have a soft spot for anyone who is persecuted or bullied or hurt."

"Which one am I? The persecuted, the bullied or the hurt?"

"You're the beautiful," Adam said quietly and looked at her and realized that she was beautiful despite her wild, red hair and her practically bloodless skin with its covering of freckles. Her blue eyes—Adam found himself caught and by them and he put down the fork and reached for her.

"Rachel?' Sonny's voice rang out and Adam took up the fork again. He stabbed the chicken thigh, held it out of the popping fat and let it drip while Sonny walked in.

"I can't believe that you're awake and I didn't have to tell you once," Rachel said, recovering herself.

"That smell of fried chicken woke me up. I can have it for breakfast, can't I?"

"That and biscuits. They should be done by now." Rachel picked up a folded towel. "Excuse me, Mr. Cartwright." He stepped aside and Rachel bent down and took the biscuits out of the oven. She looked to him. "Seems breakfast is ready. I'll go tell Elias." She put the pan of biscuits down and left the kitchen and Adam sighed.

"This is going to be a good breakfast today," Sonny said grinning. "Fried chicken's my favorite food in the whole world."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

"Rachel," Elias yelled, "we're ready to go. Get out here now or we'll leave you." Elias wasn't a patient man and he hated waiting for anything or anyone and felt that Rachel often dawdled just to get under his skin.

"You know women," Adam said hoping to soothe matters, "they're always a bit late but they're usually worth waiting for." He leaned against the buckboard. Adam had carried out the covered Dutch oven filled with fresh water in which the five cleaned and plucked chickens had been placed. He had tied it down in the back of the buckboard so it wouldn't tip over on the ride.

"No woman's worth waiting this long for." But no sooner had Elias spoken than Rachel came out of the house. She had chosen one of her most flattering dresses, a dimity print, cream with blue stripes, and she wore a perky straw bonnet which tied at the side of her face with a blue bow. Adam noticed the locket tied around her neck with a section of his gift of the blue ribbon and thought Rachel looked lovely. He smiled at her when she glanced at him seeking his approval. "What are you looking so nice for?" Elias asked. "You're all gussied up."

"Thank you for thinking I look nice, Elias," Rachel said in an offhand manner. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look decent. You wouldn't want to be embarrassed by me, would you, Elias? Have people think you couldn't afford for your wife to dress properly when she goes into town?"

Elias said nothing else but he clouded up; Rachel seemed a bit more cocky than usual and he didn't care for it. He was sure that Adam Cartwright and his attentions had something to do with the change in her. His presence seemed to have upset the balance of power in his household.

Adam suppressed a grin as Rachel turned her smile on him. He helped Rachel up to the seat and then climbed up himself and took up the reins while Elias joined them on the other side of Rachel. She adjusted her skirts to keep Elias from sitting on the fabric and wrinkling it. Adam snapped the reins and the horses started out toward town.

"What's this?" Elias asked as he reached for Rachel's neck. She put her hand protectively over the locket.

"It's mine. It was my grandmother's."

"Looks to be gold. Is it?"

"I…I suppose so. Why?"

"You mean we could've sold it to get money for supplies and you never told me?"

Rachel, her hand still covering the locket, spoke tremulously. "It was my grandmother's—it's all I have of my family. I don't want to sell it. Besides, I'm sure it's not worth much."

"If it's gold, it's worth something. I'm going to remember you have it and the next time we're in trouble, I'm selling it."

Adam stared ahead, determined not to intervene. He kept reminding himself that it wasn't his business—none of it was and then told himself that as soon as he settled the account at the store and the business of the lawyer was resolved, he would move on. He couldn't afford to become involved in the Fell's lives—and he had to remain distanced from Rachel; she was a married woman. _Yes, he told himself, I'll leave. As soon as the money comes and I've paid them what I feel I owe them, I'll leave_. And he snapped the reins again for the horses to move faster while Rachel sat stiffly beside him.

The day had been tiring. Adam had first accompanied Rachel to sell her chickens to the small restaurant where she sold her eggs. He had carried the large pan for her while Elias impatiently waited in the buckboard. "Don't be long," he had called after them. He yearned to have some money in his pocket and then to get to the bank and the lawyer's and he needed Adam for both and for that, he hated Adam Cartwright who had made himself too valuable to him—to them. Sonny enjoyed listening to Adam who could wend his way through stories of his adventures and Sonny would listen, rapt, open-mouthed. Rachel even teased Sonny once by telling him to shut his mouth or the flies would get in. And then there was Rachel. She hadn't fooled Elias. He suspected that Rachel had dressed for Adam Cartwright, not for the townspeople and not for him.

The owner of the restaurant, Mrs. Cowan, came out the alley door where Rachel had always gone with her egg basket.

Mrs. Cowan reached in the pan and picked out one of the chickens. With the other hand, she pressed the flesh on the thigh and the breast. "Well, they could be a little fatter. What about the eggs? You know how these cowboys love ham and eggs for breakfast."

"I need to keep the eggs for the time," Rachel said.

Mrs. Cowan looked at Adam and wondered who the dark-haired saddle-tramp was; he looked slightly dangerous to her. "Okay. I guess I can use these to make a batch of chicken and dumplings tonight. Cowboys like their pastry smothered in gravy."

Rachel sighed in relief and looked to Adam who barely nodded his approval.

"You got five here, so I'll give you $1.25 for all of them—25 cents a chicken."

Adam spoke up, his deep voice exuding authority. "These are plump, juicy chickens and they've already been plucked and cleaned. Mrs. Fell's saved you quite a bit of work. Throw in another 50 cents for her labor and it's a deal."

Rachel looked down. She had been willing to take 25 cents a chicken and she didn't know what to do if Mrs. Cowan refused. Nevertheless, she stayed silent.

Mrs. Cowan, a large woman with an unfortunate mustache, stared at the two people and again at the chickens. She wanted to refuse as she didn't want to give the impression that she would bargain but she also wanted the chickens. She knew how far she could stretch them in the creamy stew; she could sell a bowl of inexpensive dough, gravy and a few bits of chicken for 50 cents and make a good profit.

"Okay. A dollar seventy-five for all of them. Carry them in and put them on the table inside."

"Fine," Adam said. Mrs. Cowan opened the door and Adam placed the chickens inside. A man was frying up slices of ham and rolled-out biscuit dough was on a counter top. It was still breakfast time.

"What are those," he said to Adam.

"Five cleaned chickens. I need the pan back. Where shall I put them?"

The man looked around. "Put them in that bowl there."

Adam saw a large bowl that was more than likely used to mix huge batches of dough since there was still residue inside but Adam did as he was told, fishing them out with a wooden spoon which he poked up the opening he had made to clean them. Then, nodding to the man, he took the pan outside where Mrs. Cowan was counting out the money into Rachel's palm. Then she slipped the rest of the money back into her apron pocket while Rachel thanked her.

"You bring me eggs next time and I'll give you a good price. I need them for baking too," Mrs. Cowan said. "But leave him at home." She glanced at Adam as he dumped the water from the Dutch oven onto the dust.

As they walked away, Rachel grinned. "Here," she said handing Adam fifty cents. "You earned it."

"No, it's yours. Keep it."

Rachel stopped. "You helped pluck the chickens, you cleaned them and you bargained for a higher price—I never would have had the courage. Now take this fifty cents and send the telegram and keep anything left. How were you going to pay for it if not from the money for the chickens anyway? You spent all your money on Sonny and me. Now take it."

Adam had never taken money from a woman before and he was loathe to take any now. Elias had said the night before that he would pay for the telegram, had taken a small jar from the mantle and emptied the contents. It came to 73 cents. Elias said that it was all the coin he had but he would pay for the telegram with it. Since the money from the chickens and the aprons would go into Elias' pocket anyway, Adam saw the rationale of taking the money from Rachel.

"All right," he said and Rachel put the coins in his hand. "Now you go send your telegram and I'll get my aprons from the buckboard and see Mr. Sweet. And I might do a bit of horse-trading myself." Rachel smiled and led the way and Adam, watching her walk with a bit more lightness in her step, shook his head and smiled. She had recovered from Elias' threat of selling her locket, possibly due to the money from selling the chickens. Then he followed her swishing skirts out to where Elias was waiting.

They had taken Rachel home and Elias was pleased. After all, he had $3.25 in his pocket; the $1.25 for the chickens and Mr. Sweet had paid two dollars for the aprons. Rachel urged them to hurry home; Sonny was expected soon and Rachel wanted to be there. "The boy shouldn't come home to an empty house," Rachel had said. The Bowens, a family on a nearby farm always took Sonny with their own children to and from school and he was due home soon, the walk from the Bowen's taking about twenty minutes. So after they left Rachel, Adam and Elias headed out to the fence they had repaired the day before and just as Adam had thought, it was down.

"They must have pulled it down as soon as we finished." Adam felt the weariness of frustration come upon him. "I feel like Sisyphus."

"Who?" Elias asked.

"Oh, he was a man whose punishment in hell was to keep pushing a heavy boulder up a steep hill and then as soon as he reached the top, the boulder would roll down again—a never ending chore. And that's what this is like. If we fix it, they'll tear it down again—over and over. It's futile but I think we should repair it again-send a message to Truck."

"Not today, Adam. After arguing with that lawyer, I'm tuckered. Besides, it's late. It'll take us a good half hour to get back home."

Adam admitted that he was tired as well. It had been difficult to convince the lawyer, Mr. Grayson Griffin, Esq. to be Fell's lawyer.

"You don't look like you have two pennies to rub together," Griffin had said to Elias. Adam had yet to say anything; he had prepped Elias on what to say and Adam was impressed with how Elias remembered the key points: Griffin would document what the geologist wrote about his findings. Griffin would also draw up papers to keep Truck and his men from encroaching on Fell's property with legal ramifications as the consequence and Griffin would see that the papers were served on Jeb Truck. But Griffin balked. "Why should I get mixed up in this? Jeb Truck is a rich man and powerful too. He has quite a few men working for him and it looks as if all you have working for you is this scarecrow here."

Then Adam spoke and Griffin seemed surprised that Adam could speak knowledgeably—could speak at all. "Mr. Fell has oil on his property; I can vouch for that as there is an obvious seep hole. If he doesn't have the means to raise the oil, then he'll sell the drilling rights to one of the big companies back east. Men are going oil crazy. Have you any idea how much money oil is worth and that's not even considering how valuable it will be in the future? Now how will you feel when another lawyer in Direville becomes rich as Croesus when it could have been you?"

Griffin sat back and pondered, steepling his fingers as he mulled over the situation. Direville was a small town and it had three lawyers practicing and of the three, he was the youngest and the poorest. He was already eaten up with envy for what the other lawyers had and considered what this "scarecrow" had said. Grayson Griffin, Esq. was not a dull man; he was crafty and clever and that was why the lawyer under whom he apprenticed told him that law was the right profession for him. Griffin pulled open a drawer and took out a few cigars. "Cigar, gentlemen?" It was then that Adam knew that Griffin was Elias Fell's lawyer. They agreed on 20% of the profits of the first well and 2% on all other profits from drilling on the property for as long as Elias Fell owned the land. Griffin drew up a rough contract right then and there and Adam asked to read it before it was finalized. Adam reached out and Griffin reluctantly handed over the papers; he realized he had earlier been intentionally duped into thinking that Adam Cartwright was merely an ignorant ranch hand but he realized that the man was as crafty as he and that made Cartwright dangerous.

The three men sat in silence as Adam scanned the pages and then he spoke with authority. "Add in that should Elias…well, if anything happens to him, that the profits go to his family, his wife and son, and that they retain control over any future digging even if they move off the property. After all, they may decide to leave—even Mr. Fell may decide to move away from all the derricks that might be set up on his property. The noise alone could be enough to run them off."

Elias shifted in his chair but said nothing; he didn't care much for the thought of dying and Griffin agreed to add the clause although he glowered at the man who suggested it—_clever bastard_, Griffin thought as the sound of the nub of his pen moving on the parchment was the only one in the room


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Rachel was washing the dishes when Adam turned in. He said goodnight to her as he passed on his way to his room and she replied in kind. Elias sat in the parlor sipping hard cider and fantasizing about being a wealthy man. He had never had the means to buy himself or anyone else any store-bought, fancy clothes so he imagined himself dressed in a cutaway jacket and a high beaver hat. Maybe he'd even carry a silver-tipped cane.

In his back room, Adam was unbuttoning his shirt when the door opened and Rachel stepped in. She closed the door behind her and put her finger to her lips.

"Mrs. Fell, I don't think…"

"No," she replied and reached into her apron pocket. "I want to hide this here in the storeroom." She pulled out the locket still on the blue ribbon. She walked to the shelf and opened a stone crock and placed the locket inside. "If Elias decides to sell it, I'll tell him I lost it."

"Do you think he'll believe you?"

"I don't care just as long as he never finds it. It's precious to me. I've also hidden letters from the boy I was going to marry, Franklin. He would write me every chance he had during the war and I brought them with me. I know Elias would burn them if he found them but some afternoons I come in here and pull them out and read them again. It helps me sometimes to know that I was loved, that he loved me."

Adam gently smiled. "I understand." Then the door flew open and a furious Elias stood framed by the open door.

"You whore, you jezebel," Elias said as he reached out and grabbed Rachel by her wrist, pulling her to him.

"No, Elias—you don't understand…"

"So this is why you wanted Griffin to add in that bit about my maybe dying, huh, Cartwright? You and Rachel planning on killing me and taking my land?"

"Elias, it's nothing like that!" Rachel flinched when Elias raised his hand but he was unable to strike her because Adam grabbed his upraised arm.

"I can't abide to see a woman struck." Adam held him for a few more beats and then released Elias' arm which he dropped by his side. Elias let go of Rachel and she rubbed her wrist where he had gripped it.

Adam waited, gauging the situation. Then evenly and calmly, he spoke. "Elias, I have no interest in owning your property or anything that's yours. If you like, I'll pack my gear and leave now but Rachel didn't come in here for me. This is where you keep supplies, isn't it, and she isn't stupid enough to do anything behind your back while you're sitting in the parlor."

Elias, his chest heaving, looked back and forth at the two people. "Perhaps I was hasty…" Elias rethought the situation. It was possible, Elias considered, that Rachel was innocent and there was nothing between her and Adam Cartwright and yet, they seemed too comfortable with one another not to have some type of affection between them, some silent communication. And then there was the clause that Adam asked to be added to the retainer contract. Elias decided that he would wait and watch and in the meantime, he would make use of Adam's knowledge and money by having him read the final contract tomorrow in Griffin's office. Then Adam would pick up the wired money to pay off the bill at the store. Elias knew he would feel relief to have that business finished, two fewer things to keep him from sleeping well. Then he and Adam would repair the downed fence. But tonight, Elias decided, he would lock the bedroom door and put the key under his pillow. And Rachel would know who had rights to her and who her husband was.

"Do you have a wire for me, Adam Cartwright?" Adam leaned against the counter in the telegrapher's.

"Yes, sir," the young man said, smiling. He remembered this tall, dark man from the day before because he had left him a nice tip. The telegrapher turned around, looked in the slat marked "C" and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Adam.

Adam read the wire silently and then turned to Elias. "My father took care of the money yesterday; let's go to the bank." What Adam hadn't revealed was that his father had also included his hopes that Adam would use the money to come home—Adam was, as his father had written, profoundly missed by those who loved him.

The two men walked down the street to the bank and Elias handed over the required fifty cents transaction fee before the bank would give Adam the money. Adam also had no identification and although he had shaved that morning, he knew what he looked like to the bank teller and could well understand why the man had called for the manager to intervene in the transaction. Adam finally convinced the bank manager that if he weren't who he said he was, how would he have the telegram informing him that the money was available? After Adam signed the receipt, the bank manager told the teller to give "Mr. Cartwright" $100.00 and the man counted it out. Adam folded the bills in half, tucked them in his shirt pocket, tipped his hat and left, Elias on his heels.

Elias watched as Adam paid off the store bill and Mr. Sweet, once he saw the amount of money Adam held, became obsequious, almost kowtowing making Adam smile; it was interesting to Adam how money changed everything. Mr. Sweet asked Adam if he had need of anything else, anything at all. Perhaps a new shirt, a belt? He had fine leather belts. Would Mr. Cartwright be interested is looking at them? What about new boots? He had some fine hand-tooled boots from a maker in Philadelphia. Adam replied that he wasn't interested and he and Elias left the store. Adam wanted to buy Sonny candy and Rachel a little something but after what had transpired the night before, he thought better of it.

"I'll buy you lunch," Adam said to Elias. The clock at the bank had shown that it was near 11:30.

"You don't owe me any meal. My wife will feed me when I get home but go ahead and buy yourself lunch. I'll wait in the buckboard."

Adam stopped and faced Elias. He knew that "my wife" was Elias' way of stressing that Rachel was his property. "You've been giving me a place to sleep and the warmth of your home. If I had to pay for all that as well as pay someone to cook my meals, well, it would have cost me quite a bit more. Allow me to buy you lunch as a way to show my gratitude."

The men stood for a moment and Elias thought. He hated wealthy men—had been at their mercy all his life and now he saw Adam as a wealth man, not some bedraggled saddle tramp who had wandered onto his property. Adam's clothes may be worn and his sleeve cuffs frayed, his boots dusty and scuffed and his hat weathered from rain and snow and heat but Adam Cartwright was still a wealthy man. And he was educated and knew more about business than Elias was certain he would ever know; Elias hated Adam for that. And then there was Rachel. When Elias and Rachel were alone in the locked bedroom, he had threatened to beat her raw if she was laying with Adam Cartwright. He had pulled off his belt, doubled it and snapped the leather.

"I'm warning you, Rachel. If you're spreading your legs for him, I'll whip the skin off your back. Understand?" She had nodded but had never confessed anything, just kept denying anything had happened between her and Adam Cartwright. Elias finally let it drop. He knew that if he beat Rachel while Adam was here, Adam would more than likely beat him and although he knew he was physically larger than Adam, Elias also knew that Adam would be better with his fists. He'd wait until Adam had left for Nevada and then get the truth out of her.

But Elias agreed to let Adam buy him lunch so they walked over to Mrs. Cowan's restaurant and ordered beef stew with cherry cobbler for dessert. The men barely spoke during the meal but then Elias wasn't one for conversation and Adam, although he enjoyed a conversation and expressing his views on varied subjects, found no real common spirit with Elias; it was like eating with a dumb beast, as far as Adam was concerned and considered what it would be like to only have interest in filling one's belly and satisfying one's lust. Adam realized the thin line that separated him from men like Elias Fell. What would he be like if a quirk of fate had placed them in each other's circumstances, Adam wondered? Would he be a brute? And Adam's mind wandered back to Rachel and the night she had come to him. Did Elias cherish her gentleness, her tender touch and her soft mouth? Did he thrill to feel her hands on him as they rushed like a breeze over his skin? And jealousy rose in him, gripping his throat and he stopped eating and put down his fork.

"Don't like the cobbler?" Elias asked; he had drowned his cobbler in the rich cream that was in the little cow pitcher on the table and he spoke with his mouth full of the blood-colored mush.

"I'm full. That's all." Adam pushed the small bowl away and Elias pulled it toward him.

"No sense wasting food." Elias finished his cobbler and then Adam's while Adam sat back and drank his coffee, deciding that tomorrow he would leave. Tomorrow after breakfast.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Adam and Elias were almost finished repairing the downed section of fence when Adam felt a blow slam his back and almost spin him around. He fell heavily on the ground, unsure what had happened. Searing, red-hot pain radiated through his being. Adam heard some shots exchanged, Elias' rifle and then a response from another rifle further away and it was then that Adam knew he was shot and he also knew it was bad. It was a shock to his soul.

"Oh, hell," Adam said. He tried to sit up but couldn't manage and for the second time, the pain felled him. Elias dropped to his knees beside him.

"He shot you in the back—one of Truck's men. Let me see." He rolled Adam over and Adam winced from the sharp pain as he lay on his side. He noticed that he couldn't breathe deeply on his side and wondered if the bullet had pierced his lung. Elias turned him on his back again and Adam noticed some clouds scudding across the sky above him. "It's bad, Cartwright, bleeding like a stuck pig. I 'magine you'll be dead in an hour the way you're bleeding. Won't even be time to get a doctor." Elias reached into Adam's shirt pocket and pulled out the folded bills. "Sorry, Adam, but you won't have any need of money in hell." And Elias stood up and stared down at Adam who tried again to raise himself up but fell again and collapsed on the ground.

"You son-of-a-bitch," Adam said. "You goddamn son-of-a-bitch. You're going to leave me here to die, aren't you?"

"You're already dead, boy." Elias hurried to the buckboard, climbed up and snapped the reins. The horses took off. Adam Cartwright was going to die and Elias was going to be a wealthy man and with the money he had now, the next time he was in town, he would buy Sonny a bag of penny candy and maybe even buy a little something for Rachel-maybe. He didn't want to turn her into one of those grasping, greedy women who had to have a new dress every time a man turned around. But maybe a few gifts would cause her to be warmer to him in their bed.

"Rachel, is dinner ready?" Elias walked into the house, tossing his hat on a chair. "I'm hungry."

Rachel stepped out of the kitchen. "Yes. You two wash up and I'll call Sonny." Rachel called out the back door where Sonny was swinging and he jumped down and ran in the back door. "Wash up, Sonny."

"Okay, Rachel." She smiled as she heard Sonny noisily run through the house to his room to wash his hands.

Rachel brought out a large platter of sliced pork surrounded by boiled potatoes. Elias was sitting at the table and tucked his napkin into the collar of his shirt.

"I'm hungry tonight."

Sonny came out and sat down and waited. Rachel sat down as well and Elias reached out with his fork for the pork.

"Elias," Rachel said, "Wait for Mr. Cartwright before you start eating. And we need to say grace."

"Oh, Cartwright's not back yet." Elias stabbed two slices and dropped them on his plate. Then he reached for the potatoes and pushed a few on his plate and then proceeded to mash them with his fork in preparation for scoops of fresh butter.

"Why not? Didn't he come back with you?" Rachel thought it strange and became suspicious immediately.

"If he had, he'd be here now, wouldn't he? Pass the butter."

"But you drove the buckboard home, right?" Elias nodded as he mashed the melting butter into the white potatoes. "Then how will her get home?" Elias ate and didn't answer. "Elias, how will Mr. Cartwright get home?"

Elias slammed his fist on the table and both Rachel and Sonny jumped. "Damn it woman, this isn't his home! Why the hell should you care what happens to him. Maybe he's taken off—stolen a horse and just lit out."

"Sonny," Rachel quietly said, "go to your room."

"But I'm hungry."

"Take your plate with you then. You father and I need to talk." Sonny reluctantly took his plate and fork and left the table but he looked back once or twice; something was wrong and he wanted to know what it was. Once Sonny had closed his bedroom door, Rachel turned back to Elias. "What did you do, Elias? Did you kill him?"

"No, I didn't. While we were fixing the downed line, one of Truck's men shot him in the back. He's dead. Here." Elias pulled the folded bills out of his pocket and threw them on the table. "We can buy more chickens and you can even buy yourself a new dress. Buy Sonny new boots; he's outgrowing the ones he has now."

Rachel stared disbelieving. "You robbed him and left him dying out there? Wolves will tear him apart—you can't leave his body there. Please, Elias." She stood up. "If you don't go get his body, I will. The man deserves to be buried at least." Rachel pushed back her chair, left the table and grabbed her shawl on the way out.

"Rachel!" Elias called after her but she didn't slow down—she hurried more. The horses were still hitched to the buckboard and Rachel climbed up and picked up the reins. Elias was right behind her and grabbed her wrist. "Where the hell are you going?"

"To find Mr. Cartwright. Then I'll take him in town to the sheriff. I won't leave his body out there for the animals to eat. Now let go of me." Elias waited. "I said let go of me." Rachel shook her arm for emphasis.

Elias dropped her wrist. "Move over Rachel. I'll drive to where he is." She slid over and Elias climbed up and picked up the reins and clucked to the horses. He hoped that Adam would now be dead. If not, Rachel would know that Elias wanted Adam dead and it made him uncomfortable; it would give Rachel some power over him, he felt. She would know what true evil was festering inside him. But he comforted himself with the thought that Cartwright had been out there bleeding for almost an hour now. He should most certainly be dead.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Adam struggled to get to his feet. He coughed and the pain in his chest was sharper as a fine spray of blood flew from between his lips. He was through cursing Elias, damning him to hell and wished that he knew some of Hop Sing's curses. If he had been able to reel them off as fluently as Hop Sing did, it might have distracted him from the scorching pain in his chest and back, if even for a short time. Adam felt as if a red-hot branding iron was being held against his back and that it was slowly melting away his flesh to reach his heart and lungs. And he knew he was bleeding heavily; he could feel the back of his shirt was wet and stuck to him but not with sweat. Adam, trying to ignore the pain that caused him to hold his breath, dragged himself along the ground to a tree. He attempted to pull himself up to a standing position but realized he couldn't; he was too weak and it was too much pain to endure. He collapsed on the ground.

_This is where I'm going to die—not on the Ponderosa but on Elias' land, miles from home. Wonder if someone'll find me before a bear or some wolves start ripping me apart. Maybe I won't even die before they start tearing off my arms or legs or ripping out my belly. Will Rachel know I'm dead? If not, will my family know? Rachel would let them know, I'm sure of it. _Adam moaned in pain and rolled back and forth slightly, his arms around his middle. He began to shiver. _I'm going into shock and then I'll die. I'll die alone out here—no one to see me out of this world. Think of the night with Rachel-think. Die with pleasant memories. Yes. Picture her face. Angels can't be as lovely. Blasphemy. If there's a heaven and hell, looks like you're going to hell, boy, for blasphemous thoughts._ _I should pray—Our Father who art…oh, Pa, I know you'll wonder what happened to me…you'll wonder… _And then Adam slipped into unconsciousness but not before he thought _I'm dying. This is what it's like—slipping away from all I love...slipping into…blackness._

"Elias, he's alive. He's still alive." Rachel bent over Adam as he lay on the ground, her heart pounding. The sun was setting and the light diming but she could see how pale his skin was which created more of a contrast with his black curls and the dark stubble on his cheeks and chin. She felt his forehead and he frightened her, he was so cool. She looked up at Elias who stood behind her. "We need to get him back to the house and then you go for a doctor. Now help me carry him to the buckboard."

"He'll be dead by the time we get him back."

"Help me, Elias." Rachel looked up at him. "You've done enough bad by leaving him here; don't blacken your soul with more sin."

Elias reluctantly lifted Adam up and Rachel gasped to see the dark ground beneath him due to his blood. "Oh, my God, Elias. He's lost so much blood." Rachel had to clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from crying in a panic; her heart was racing. "Hurry, Elias, before he bleeds to death." Elias grabbed Adam under his arms and clasped his hands across Adam's chest, dragging him to the buckboard where Rachel helped by lifting Adam's feet. They awkwardly struggled to get him in the back and Elias muttered that if Adam wasn't dead before he probably would be after their rough handling but Rachel ignored him and sat down beside Adam in the flat of the buckboard, gently placing Adam's head on her lap. She threw her shawl over him in an attempt to keep him warm and swallowed her fear. If he died on the ride to the house, at least he wouldn't die alone.

Rachel sat in a chair by the bed. The doctor had come and gone, removing the bullet from Adam's back, repairing the torn lung tissue as best "a country doctor," as he called himself, could but didn't hold out much hope of his recovery. "All you can do is keep him warm; he's in shock from blood loss. Give him water if he wakes and feed him broth and then some soft foods. Keep his head raised with those pillows and as soon as he's able, sit him up all the way—even get him to walk a bit. We don't want him to develop pneumonia and die from that. I closed that wound to his lung but it's collapsed—might stay that way, might not. If he starts coughing up a large amount of blood, clots or such, well, it may be a sign he's dying and then again, it may not be but if the blood just starts to pour out of his mouth, he's as good as dead. Give him some laudanum for pain if he needs it-and I mean really needs it. You want him to be as active, as he can." The doctor picked up his hat and his bag. "Good night, Mrs. Fell. I'll be back by tomorrow and check on him—show you how to take care of the wound and leave you some salve so you can change the dressing yourself, that is, if he's still with us."

"What do I owe you, Dr. Sand?" Rachel was tired, exhausted and had dark circles under her eyes.

"You owe me nothing. But if you have any rhubarb and would like to pay me later by making me a pie, well, I'll consider that payment enough. My wife can't make a decent rhubarb pie to save her life." He smiled at Rachel and she replied that she would see to it that he received a rhubarb pie with the flakiest crust she could manage. Just as he was about to leave the room, the doctor turned. "If that man lives, don't tell him that his life is only worth a rhubarb pie." He chuckled and Rachel smiled again.

Elias came to the bedroom door after walking the doctor out to his buggy. It was early morning and neither had slept. He leaned heavily against the frame as if that was all that kept him on his feet. "Glad Doc didn't want any money. Why doctors take a fee even if the person dies I just can't figure."

"Be quiet, Elias." Rachel said, wiping Adam's brow with a cool, wet cloth.

"Don't tell me to be quiet, woman! This is my house…"

Rachel stood up and faced Elias. He straightened up; he had never seen Rachel so angry, she was shaking with fury and he was glad that his pistol was on top of the bureau and not within easy reach or Rachel might very well have shot him.

"You will be quiet!" she said authoritatively. "If you aren't, I'll have a few things to say about how you shot Adam Cartwright." She raised her chin.

"I…why I told you, I didn't shoot him—I told you it was one of Truck's men that did it just like they did me. They're nothing but back-shooters."

"Really? And how are you any better? Even if you didn't put the bullet in him, you attempted to kill him by leaving him out there to die alone. If I were you, I'd just keep my mouth shut." Rachel sat back down and took up the cloth again and wiped Adam down, his neck and his chest. He was beginning to run a fever. Her hand shook slightly; she had never expected to talk to Elias that way and it had surprised her as much as it had him.

In a quiet voice, Elias said, "I didn't shoot him, I swear, and when Doc sends the sheriff out here, I'll tell him so. If Adam lives, he'll tell you as well that I'm innocent."

"I hope for your sake that the sheriff believes you and you better pray that Adam Cartwright lives or there'll be no one to attest that you're as innocent as you claim. But no matter what, you have to answer for what you did—or didn't do to Mr. Cartwright and to God."

Elias stood and watched Rachel tending to the man who lay in his bed. He couldn't understand how things had come to this, that Adam Cartwright was in his bed with Rachel, his wife, tending him. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" Elias complained. "You have him in our bed."

"Sleep on the settee or in the store room. Sleep on the floor if you like—I don't care." Rachel never looked up but she heard Elias' footsteps on the wood floor as he walked away. She let out a shuddery breath. Her world had been upended by this stranger, this inscrutable man who lay dying in her marriage bed. She wanted to cry and throw herself across his chest and plead with him not to die and beg God to save him


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Adam Cartwright lived. Dr. Sand received a rhubarb pie as payment for his efforts a week later.

Adam's recovery was slow and he had remained unconscious for almost two days but Adam's first thought when he returned to awareness, even before he was able to open his eyes, was that he was alive. He accepted it and then he felt the pain and knew for a fact he was alive. The pain wasn't as horrible as it had been before but whenever he tried to take a deep breath, there it was—stabbing through him again. He groaned and then he felt a cool hand like a gentle wind on his forehead and a voice, Rachel's voice, calling to him.

"Mr. Cartwright, I'm here with you. You need to drink. The doctor said that you need water to build up lost fluids."

Adam felt a small arm go about his shoulders, pulling him upright, and he lifted his head slightly but then his head dropped back again. He wanted to hold it up but couldn't. And he was so thirsty.

"Elias, come help me."

Adam felt a stronger arm lift him up to almost a sitting position and felt a hand on the back of his head and a glass at his mouth. It felt odd, the cool glass against his lips and he wanted to open his eyes, to look at Rachel and see her face but he couldn't force his eyes open. But he could drink. The water soothed his burning throat as it rolled back on his tongue and he swallowed. Slowly, sip by sip he was given water until the glass was taken away. He wanted more and tried to ask for more but only an odd sound came from his throat but Rachel must have understood because he felt her hand again to the back of his head and the glass placed at his lips. And then he had more water until he felt that his mouth wasn't dry anymore. Adam felt his head laid onto the pillows again and the large arm slipped out from under him and he heard her voice telling him to rest. Rachel said she would make broth for him and he could drink it that night. It would help build his blood.

A coverlet was gently pulled up to his chin and Adam felt his body relax; it reminded him of when he was a child and would be asleep and then feel the covers tucked around him again. Adam always knew it was his father even though he was too sleepy to look and thought that if he lived through this, he would thank his father when he saw him again, thank the man who always checked in to make sure that his sons were safe and warm before he turned in himself. Then Adam felt a soft kiss on his forehead and he wanted to cry at the tenderness he was receiving. "I think the worst is over now. You'll get better—more quickly if you eat. Now go back to sleep. I'll be back." Rachel's voice broke through to him and so Adam relaxed and slipped into soft darkness again.

The next day, Adam managed to open his eyes and Rachel was sitting in a rocking chair beside the bed crocheting doilies. He watched her, her brows furrowed as she worked at the circular pattern. The sun was streaming in the bedroom window and Adam smiled to himself as he watched her. He swallowed and managed to say, "Rachel?"

She stopped and then put down her needle work and went to him. "Yes?"

Adam again felt her cool hand on his forehead and then on his cheek.

"That's the first time you've called me by my first name, Mr. Cartwright, other than that night." She smiled and he smiled back at her, at least the best he could. "Would you like some water?" He nodded and Rachel poured a glass from a pitcher. She helped him sit up and he grimaced at the pain but managed. Then, she held the glass and Adam tentatively grasped it as well, his hand covering hers and raised it to his lips and gulped down the water, some of it dribbling down the sides of his mouth.

"There," she said, wiping his face with a handkerchief she kept in her waistband. "I'll get you some broth. The doctor said you need to eat."

Adam reached out for her and touched her arm. Rachel stopped and leaned over him. "What is it?"

Adam moistened his lips with his tongue; they were dry and a small crack in the flesh stung. "Thank you."

Her lip quivered and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away and then reached down and stroked one of his cheeks with the backs of her fingers. "You don't need to thank me. I know what happened, that Elias robbed you and left you there. I have all your money—all of it. When you're well enough, you can use it to go home."

"You'll come too-with me." he said and then swallowed deeply. He suffered a constant pain that became sharper when he spoke. Rachel noticed his grimace and she didn't know what to say about possibly leaving with him; it hadn't been something she had considered.

"You shouldn't talk. The doctor said that there'd be air trapped inside you—he said it's painful as it rises and it'll take a while to work its way out. He stitched up your lung—it collapsed from the wound you suffered. It may stay that way or not." She smiled gently down at him. "I'll get you some broth and I'll soak some hard tack in it—give you something to chew." Rachel left and Adam sank back into the pillow.

Adam was up and walking but Rachel wouldn't let him walk too much; she was worse than a jailer, Adam joked. During the day, he sat in the rocking chair and eventually, Rachel allowed Sonny in to see Adam. The boy would sit and talk and Adam would share stories of his youth. Sonny was impressed and considered that Adam had an exciting childhood and envied him. That struck Adam as odd because most of his memories were colored by loneliness and pain and loss. But then, when Adam told Sonny about some things such as the Indian attack, he didn't share how his second mother, Inger, had been killed, just the story of the Indians attacking the station to get the man they wanted.

"What did the Indians do to him once they got him?" Sonny asked.

"I don't really know," Adam replied. "I would've asked my father but he had—other things to handle."

"Think they killed him?"

"Probably but I'd like to think they didn't."

Sonny looked puzzled. "But he killed that Indian for nothing. If he had killed a white man, wouldn't he be hung for it?"

"More than likely. But hanging, if it's done right, is quick and painless. Revenge isn't quick and painless and that's what the Indians wanted—revenge. The law doesn't take 'revenge,' it provides justice. Justice is different and sometimes people feel that justice is weak—the culprit didn't get true justice, not an eye for an eye. But then the law isn't so much morality—it's what many learned men have decided is just. Men know what the consequences might be for their crimes and that will hopefully deter them. If a man is hanged, it's because what he did was so awful that his life should be taken and he should be removed from the body of man."

Sonny sat quietly. "I'm going to have to study on that for a while, Mr. Cartwright. My brother, Danny, was killed in a gunfight a few years ago and the man wasn't punished but my pa wanted to kill him. My ma had to talk him out of it. I remember that she cried and begged him not to go to town to kill the man. My ma died a short time after that. Pa said that the man who killed Danny killed her too and shoulda been hung."

Adam considered whether he should share the details of Inger's death with Danny, how it had almost destroyed his father-and him, but he heard Elias at the bedroom door.

"Sonny, go get ready for dinner. I want to talk to Mr. Cartwright."

"Okay, Pa." Sonny jumped off the bed where he had been sitting. "You coming to the table to eat tonight, Mr. Cartwright?"

"I don't know. Rachel is in charge and I do what she tells me." Sonny laughed and left the room and Adam and Elias were alone in an uncomfortable silence.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Adam waited while Elias walked back and forth gathering his thoughts. Then he stopped.

"I want to apologize, Adam—though I know that's not enough. I honestly thought you were good as dead—that's why I left you and stole your money. Rachel says that's no excuse, that there's no excuse for leaving a man to die. She's shamed me repeatedly and barely speaks to me for what I've done. I don't know that she'll ever forgive me but I've tried to make up for it in little ways. I didn't spend any of your money…although I probably would have if Rachel hadn't disallowed it but I'm truly sorry for what I've done to you. I don't know that I'm a better man for it—probably not. You know how men, no matter how much they try, always slip back into who they were because that's who they are. But for Sonny's sake, I'm going to try.

Rachel asked me what Sonny would think of me had he known, well, had he known that when I left you, you were still breathing. I'm afraid what he would think. I know what Rachel thinks of me—she's told me and said she's ashamed to be my wife, ashamed of me. I guess I'll have to live with that.

Anyway, that's what I've come to say…and to invite you to the table tonight. If you'd break bread with me, well, I would consider it an honor. You've been helpful and honest and I repaid you by leaving you when you'd been shot." Elias swallowed deeply and averted his eyes. "Well, that's all I have to say."

Elias turned and walked out leaving Adam to deal with his own conscience.

He sat, his heart quickening and his breath was rough.

_I've lusted after his wife, lay with his wife and now I want to take her away with me. Why do I think I'm any better than Elias is? I'm not. The man gave me shelter, fed me and I dishonored him in his own house. And I'd sleep with Rachel again, pull her down to me to feel her lips on mine and to take her, to have her…oh, I ache for her. There's no repentance. What does Claudius say in __**Hamlet**__ about praying for forgiveness? Think, get your mind going, boy. You've been stagnant too long. Think…Claudius says…'Words without thoughts never to heaven go'. I'm not sorry so I can't find forgiveness from man or God. And Rachel is Elias' wife and I've shamed her in their house. I should have turned her away when she came to me but I didn't want to. I needed her but I damned her soul along with mine? 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife. Thou shalt not commit adultery'. Oh, Rachel, what have I done? What have I done to you?_

Rachel came into the bedroom. "Elias said that he invited you to the table. I don't see why you can't join us…unless you'd rather not."

"I'd like to," Adam said. "If you don't mind my smell and the way I look."

Rachel smiled. "You look just fine. A bit too thin but fine. Let me help you." Rachel moved to hold the rocking chair still while Adam rose to his feet. He stood for a few seconds catching his breath.

"I'm huffing as if I just ran five miles." He smiled at Rachel and wanted to talk to her but this wasn't the time. Since he was awake more of the day, she spent little time with him and the few times he tried to talk to her, she made an excuse to leave quickly. Just that morning after she had helped him to the chair and then brought him his coffee Adam reached out for her. She turned but he didn't release her.

"Please, Mr. Cartwright, I imagine you might get lonely here all day with just books to read and looking out that window must get dull, but I have work to do. I've neglected my garden. I mean I replanted what I could and the plants have done much better than I had hoped. And then there are the cows…oh, and I want to make some buttermilk for you. Do you like buttermilk?"

"Yes, I like buttermilk but I want to talk to you—please, Rachel. As soon as I'm well enough to travel, I'll be leaving. I'd like to take you with me, take you away from here. We could take Sonny with us but I can't leave you here. Elias…he doesn't treasure you, doesn't realize how lucky he is to have you and I know you don't love me but nonetheless, you should leave. You can start a new life with me or go further west. I'll help you." He searched her face but she quickly looked away.

"Please, I have work to do. Please, Mr. Cartwright." Her voice was soft and Adam thought he heard a sob in her voice so he let her go and Rachel left, not to return until later with a glass of buttermilk and biscuits and bacon for lunch-and now she returned to ask him to join them. So Adam slowly walked out into the parlor and then to the dining area where she had already laid a place for him and he sat and joined the Fell family in saying grace for the food they were about to receive.

Within another week, Adam felt well enough to leave. He had returned to his back room to pack up his few belongings in his saddle bags. Rachel had washed his clothes while he was ill and as he improved, Rachel gave him the same shirt and pants that he had worn before, Danny's clothes so that he could sit out back and walk a bit about the yard. She had told him, when he seemed reluctant to take the clothes, that it was fine.

"Elias dasn't say anything," Rachel had said so Adam took the clothes and sat on the edge of the bed to dress. But now he was back to wearing the clothes he had worn when he arrived as Rachel had even darned the hole from the bullet.

"Mr. Cartwright," Elias said as he stood at the room's door. "Sonny and me'll be waiting in the buckboard for you. I want to tell you again, thank you for giving Sonny the Appaloosa. I'll see he takes care of it properly. Best we hurry or you'll miss that stage."

Adam nodded and Elias left. Adam leaned against the wall. He still became short of breath on exertion but the last time the doctor had been out, after listening to Adam's heart and lungs, the doctor had said that it sounded much improved form two weeks ago. "Give it time and you'll be as good as new," the doctor had said smiling, taking the dollar Adam had pressed on him. "I don't think I'll have to visit again and to answer your earlier query, I think you're fine to travel. Good luck, Mr. Cartwright."

Rachel told Adam that the sheriff had come out twice before Adam regained consciousness. Elias had told the sheriff that Truck's men—at least one of them, had shot Adam Cartwright. The doctor had taken the bullet he had removed from Adam's back and handed it over to the sheriff; it was a common gauge for a rifle, one that most ranch hands used, even Elias. Nevertheless, the sheriff went out to Jeb Truck's but since Elias could give no description of the shooter, the shot having been fired from long-range, and no one volunteered any knowledge of the shooting, there wasn't much the sheriff could do but leave Jeb Truck with a warning about dire consequences if there was any more violence. The sheriff had then returned to the Fell's one more time after Adam was alert; Adam confirmed that it was an unknown shooter.

"Elias Fell and I were repairing line when someone shot me from behind. It had to come from Truck's property. I heard Elias exchange a few shots but as to who it was who shot me, I couldn't say."

"That's a shame. I wish there was more I could do, Mr. Cartwright but I can't go and throw Jeb Truck and all his men in jail and hope that someone fesses up to the shooting." Adam said he understood.

In the back room, Adam looked around at the familiar shelves and his eyes fell on the crock that held Rachel's locket and the love letters from her lost love. He pulled fifty dollars out of his pocket and dropped it in the crock. He knew that Rachel would be surprised when she found it and she would know it was from him. Adam buckled his saddlebags and threw them over his shoulder. He turned to see Rachel standing in the kitchen.

"I'm glad you're well enough to travel home; I imagine your family will be glad to see you again. But I will miss you."

"Rachel, leave with me. Each time I ask you, you manage to change the subject. I know that you'll be a wealthy woman—Elias showed me his copy of the geologist's report-but do you want to stay here with Elias? Ride into town with us—you don't need to say anything until we're there, and then leave with me. You don't need to pack a bag—I'll buy you whatever you need. Just come with me."

"Adam, I'm…I'm pleased you want me to go with you, but I can't. I won't leave Sonny; I love the boy."

"Bring him along."

Rachel smiled gently. "Sonny loves his father and Elias loves him; he's a good father to Sonny. I would never take Sonny from his father and I don't think Sonny would go and it would hurt him to have me leave—he would think it was his fault. As for Elias, we don't love one another, that's true; we tolerate each other but I believe that things will be different now. Elias isn't an evil man, he's a bitter man who feels as if life cheated him. And maybe one day, after Sonny is old enough, I'll take what's mine and leave."

"Why wait until then? Come with me now, Rachel. We…"

Rachel put her fingers lightly on his lips. "I did wrong. I was lonely and you, well, you're so decent and good…I just wanted to spend one time in your arms. But you don't love me, Adam."

"Rachel…" Adam sighed. "I know what I'm like, the kind of man I am, and I'm not particularly decent and good; if I were, well, I never would have taken another man's wife. I'm not proud of myself but then I suppose I'm a lonely man who needed a woman. But you, Rachel, you are good and decent and I do love you, maybe not as much as you think I need to for you to leave, but I do. Are you sure you won't come with me?"

"I'm sure, Adam." She reached up and caressed his cheek and Adam took her in his arms one last time and kissed her—her mouth, her cheek, her neck.

"Oh, Rachel." Adam held her next to him but she pulled away.

"You best hurry. You know what an impatient man Elias is." She turned her head so she wouldn't meet Adam's eyes; she couldn't bear to see him actually leave. Rachel heard Adam's footsteps as he walked through the house and out the front. Then she heard Sonny's voice.

"C'mon, Mr. Cartwright. Come sit up front." Rachel heard Adam's voice and then, after a few seconds, she heard the sound of the buckboard leaving. She touched her mouth where his lips had pressed on hers. He was on his way home to his family where he belonged but not her, she thought. She didn't belong there; her place was here. Rachel walked over to the stone crock on the shelf, lifted the lid and felt around. She pulled out what felt like paper and saw the money Adam had left. She stared at the bills; he had left it for her to find. He was still watching out for her. She quickly put the bills back and felt around until she touched the locket. She pulled it out and stared at it, running her thumb over the front incised decoration of a fleur de lis. She opened the locket and inside was a shiny lock of black hair tied together with a bit of blue grosgrain ribbon. Rachel touched it and recalled when she had gently cut it from Adam's head as he lay sleeping on his sickbed. Rachel sighed and closed the locket and replaced it in the crock. She knew she had to continue with life after he was gone—after all that had happened, life had to go on. And Rachel bent down to pick up the blankets on which Adam Cartwright had slept, buried her face in them and smelled his skin and his warmth and she cried.

~ Finis ~


End file.
